


Chasms of the Mind

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-08-06
Updated: 1999-08-06
Packaged: 2018-11-10 14:59:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11129190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Phil deals with her knowledge. Cat makes a request of Ben.  Becka and Frannie? This story is a sequel toSuspicions.





	Chasms of the Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Disclaimer: This story is written for the private entertainment  
of fans

Disclaimer: This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story. Fraser, Vecchio, et.al. belong to Alliance; the McKenzies and friends belong to me. Cat Madden belongs to Carol Trendall and is used with permission. No infringement of any copyrights held by CBS, Alliance, CTV, or any other copyright holders of DUE SOUTH is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit. 

Lyrics from _Written in the Stars_ by Elton John and LeAnn Rimes are used without permission. I have also used poetic license to include these lyrics even thought the events of this story occur during the summer of '97 and this song did not appear until spring '99.

Chasms of the Mind

By Cassandra Hope and Carol Trendall

Copyright July 1999

**__**

Is it written in the stars  
Are we paying for some crime  
Is that all that we are good for  
Just a stretch of mortal time

Is this God's experiment  
In which we have no say  
In which we're given paradise  
But only for a day

I

nspector  
Margaret Thatcher peremptorily made her way toward the information desk  
of Cook County General Hospital. She wrinkled her nose at the antiseptic  
smell that pervaded the building and hurried her steps. She wouldn't  
be here except for the fact that the doctor handling Constable Fraser's  
case had requested she visit with him before visiting with the Constable.

It had come as a surprise to find Becka Fraser patiently waiting for her when she strode into her office that morning. Briefly she had wondered if Becka would bring up that disgraceful episode in their mutual past. "Is there some reason for you being in my office without my permission, Constable?" How she loved saying that.

"Yes, there is." Becka curtly replied.

"And what might that be?" she asked in her most condescending voice. She settled behind her desk and stared across its expanse at the other woman.

Becka rose from her chair and placing her hands on Thatcher's desk, leaned her weight on them and spoke without inflection, "I am simply relaying a message from my brother. He regrets to inform you that, due to circumstances beyond his control, he will be unable to report for duty for at least a week maybe more."

"Is this his way of taking a few personal days?"

"No, this is his way of taking a few sick days." 

"Sick days? What kind of sick days?" Thatcher almost sneered, sick days indeed.

"The 'confined to a hospital bed' kind of sick days," Becka tersely bit off the reply. "Here's his doctor's number for you to verify what I've just told you." She tossed a piece of paper onto the desk that separated them.

"Fraser's in the hospital?"

"Yes. Now if you don't mind I have **better** things to do with my time than..."

Distracted, Thatcher said, "No, no, you're dismissed."

"Sorry, Meg, I'm on leave and you **can't** dismiss me. Good-bye, **Inspector** Thatcher." Becka's smile did not reach her eyes. 

Thatcher read the message in the depths of those eyes that matched Fraser's. She, too, recalled a time long past when she and Becka Fraser had attended a training program together under the direction of Becka's father, Robert Fraser. She had never fit in with the others in that group. They didn't have the ambition and drive she'd possessed and she had felt isolated and alone. Well, none of that mattered anymore. She was an Inspector and the rest of that group were now subordinate to her in rank. 

She watched Becka waltz out of her office, impotent to stop her. Glancing down at the piece of paper, she dialed the number and asked to speak to Dr. McKenzie. He had asked her to visit with him that day. Angered by Becka's visit, she decided to delay talking with the doctor. On second thought, she decided to get this business over with as quickly as possible. Checking her schedule, she knew she had plenty of time to go to the hospital. She reluctantly agreed to meet with Dr. McKenzie.

So here she was searching for someone who could direct her toward the appropriate offices. She would visit with this Dr. McKenzie before she made any plans to visit with Fraser. She didn't want it said that she was insensitive to the needs of her staff even if it was inconvenient of him to injure himself while helping that Chicago cop.

"May I help you?" the smiling woman at the information desk asked.

"Um...yes. I'm here to see Dr. Robert McKenzie." Thatcher smiled smoothly, betraying nothing of her annoyance.

"Are you a patient of his?"

"No."

"Do you have an appointment?"

Annoyance crept into her voice and she sneered when she said, "No, but he requested that I speak with him."

"May I take your name?" The receptionist's smile did not waver. 

"It's Thatcher, **Inspector** Margaret Thatcher, RCMP."

"I see." The receptionist smiled at Thatcher wondering why all the bitches seemed to pick her day at the information desk. She reached for her phone. "I'll page Dr. McKenzie and see what he wants to do about you."

"Very well but, please, make it quick. I don't have all day," she said, her mouth thinning with displeasure.

The receptionist smiled once more. "If you'll just take a seat over there, I'll call you when I've found out something."

Thatcher fumed silently but took a seat in one of the indicated chairs. She half-heartedly glanced through a pile of magazines but finding nothing of interest turned her brittle stare on the receptionist. Maybe by dint of shear willpower she could get this business attended to. The woman hung up the phone and motioned for Thatcher to approach her desk. 

"Yes?" Thatcher barked when she once more stood in front of the desk.

"Dr. McKenzie is finishing his rounds and will be down to collect you momentarily."

"Collect me?" Just whom did this doctor think he was dealing with? Some hapless female who was used to being treated like...like an object to be collected? He had another thing coming and she was just the one to give it to him. She returned to her chair, settling in it to wait for Dr. McKenzie to 'collect' her.

"Inspector Thatcher?"

Thatcher jumped slightly. So intent had she been on trying to intimidate the receptionist that she hadn't noticed the approach of the handsome man dressed in hospital scrubs. "Yes?" she queried, running her tongue lightly over her lips, as she watched the doctor take a seat next to her.

"I'm Dr. Robert McKenzie," Rob said and extended his hand. "We can talk here but I would prefer my office."

Before his appealing smile, her defenses faded away. "Your office would seem to be more appropriate, Dr. McKenzie." Thatcher's mind began to rehearse various ways to get the handsome doctor to ask her to dinner and maybe drinks...

"Good, if you will follow me," Rob stood and led the way toward a series of elevators. 

Thatcher followed closely behind admiring the way the hospital scrubs accentuated the line of his legs and the firm muscles of his posterior. Realizing that she was staring at the doctor like he an entrée on a dessert cart, she quickly raised her eyes and focus on the back of Rob's head. 

Once inside the tiny room that served as his office here at the hospital, Rob indicated a chair opposite his desk while he settled into the one behind it. Steepling his fingers, he studied the dark-haired woman as she placed her purse on the floor and gracefully sat in the chair.

Thatcher's eyes were drawn to his hands noticing how slender his fingers were. Placing a hand to her throat she indulged in a fantasy of hands running over bare skin. The glint of gold on one of his fingers snapped her mind from the fantasy--he was married. Determined to not let the doctor know what she'd been thinking (and to spare herself some embarrassment), she primly straightened in the chair before turning her attention on the doctor. 

"Dr. McKenzie, if you would be so kind as to explain why you thought it was necessary for me to take time out of my busy schedule to come down here and talk with you," Thatcher said in the tone of voice she reserved for ordering subordinate officers around. 

Rob smiled, inwardly agreeing with Det. Vecchio's 'Dragon Lady' appellation. If anyone fit the bill, the beautiful woman sitting across from him was that person. He momentarily felt sorry for any of her subordinate officers, including Fraser. "Inspector Thatcher," he began, "I wanted to discuss Constable Fraser's case with you before you had a chance to visit with him. As you may know, I treated him a couple of years ago when he was admitted with a bullet in his back."

"Actually, I didn't know that, Dr. McKenzie. I assumed command of the Liaison Office while Constable Fraser was recuperating from that shooting."

"Then let me refresh your memory as to the Constable's status."

"I'm quite aware of his status, doctor." Her lips twisted into a cynical smile.

"I'm sure you are but not in regards to his latest injuries." Inwardly flinching at her cold voice, Rob flipped through a series of case folders searching for Ben's. Thankful for the many years experience he'd had with patients and the people that flocked around them, he smiled tightly at Thatcher wishing he could reach across his desk and slap that condescending expression from her face.

"My understanding was that, aside from some problems with his back, Constable Fraser was minimally injured and could return to duty soon." Thatcher's voice made northern Canada seem like a tropical paradise.

Having found Ben's file, Rob leaned back in his chair and studied Thatcher once more. _'Cold hearted bitch,'_ he thought thankful that he'd seen the need to intervene on Ben's behalf even if the Constable had no knowledge of it. "I'm not sure what you would consider 'minimal' injuries, as you put it, but I can assure you that Constable Fraser will not be able to return to duty soon. The injuries he has sustained may or may not have some long-term effects..."

"Such as?" Thatcher interrupted.

"With back injuries...it's hard to say. He has three broken ribs as well as a compressed disc in his spine. In and of themselves those injuries are enough to incapacitate most anyone. But, right now, I'm concerned with how the fall may have affected the positioning of the bullet from that earlier injury. It's still near the T-8 vertebrae but further injury to his back could cause it to shift position. If the shift is toward the spine, the resultant pressure on the nerves would become quite painful and could, ultimately, result in paralysis."

Thatcher sat back in the chair. She had not expected this kind of information from the doctor. "So what are you saying, doctor?"

"I'm saying that even though Constable Fraser will be released soon it is advisable that he not return to duty immediately. In fact, he should take at least a week off if not more before resuming his duties and those should be light to begin with. He needs to regain his strength as well as giving his back and ribs a chance to heal."

"And why are you telling me this?" Her eyebrows raised inquiringly.

"You are his superior officer and as such could order him to take medical leave."

"And if I don't?"

Rob stiffened at her response. "Constable Fraser will return to duty and may do more damage to his back than either of us want to see. I **will** keep him here in the hospital in traction until I'm satisfied that there has been sufficient time to alleviate the pressure on the disc. Only then can it begin to heal properly. The enforced immobility will also help his ribs. What I don't want happening is for him to leave this hospital and resume his duties before his back has had enough time to heal. You have the power to make sure that he doesn't. Think about it. If, after a recommendation from his doctor for medical leave, he further injures his back while on duty it could be costly not only to the RCMP but..." Rob let the thought hang in the air between them. "Frankly, the thought of further damage to his back is something I don't want on my conscience. Do you?"

Thatcher thought for a moment then answered, "No." That _'but'_ had hit home. It **would** look bad on her records.

Rob smiled, secretly pleased with himself. He had read the woman correctly, surmising that anything that might reflect badly on her would aid him in getting his way. "Good, then we're agreed? When I finally release Fraser, you will order him to take medical leave before returning to duty."

Knowing that she'd been backed into a corner not of her choosing, Thatcher graciously acknowledged defeat. "Agreed."

"Great!" Rob stood and extended his hand. "I'll let you go now so that you may visit Constable Fraser and give him the news of his leave."

"You don't leave anything to chance, do you, Dr. McKenzie?"

"Not where the health and safety of my patients are concerned, Inspector." Rob ushered Thatcher from his office and gave her directions to Ben's room. Well pleased with himself, he watched her ramrod-stiff back as she marched down the hallway. Turning back to his office, he approached a wall where an X-ray light table hung. He flipped the light on and looked at the X-rays once more. He had had an X-ray technician pull the X-rays taken when Ben was in the hospital after the shooting. Now he studied those and the ones taken upon Ben's admittance to the hospital last night. Was there a minimal repositioning of the bullet or was he just being paranoid? He'd talk with Martin Stevenson and have him take a look at the X-rays as well. It never hurt to get a second opinion.

* * *

Phil McKenzie slid behind the wheel of her Ford Escort and carelessly tossed her purse on the passenger seat. She reached inside the sack containing her purchases from the Rainforest Café. Pulling forth the hat, she plopped it on her head and admired herself in the rearview mirror. If she ever got back out in the field this hat would be a welcome replacement for the one she'd lost at the bottom of that mine shaft last year. Removing it from her head, she smoothed down her hair and tucked an errant lock behind her left ear. A pounding on her car door brought her face around. She smiled and rolled down the window.

"Stop admiring yourself and let's go eat," TJ McKenzie spoke, the laughter evident in his voice.

"I wasn't admiring myself."

Folding his arms across his broad chest, TJ leaned against the door of the car. "That's not what it looked like to me." 

Phil chuckled then plucked the hat from the seat. "I was admiring my new hat."

"Shopping already? Couldn't you at least wait until I got here?"

"Why? I saw it and I liked it. If you want one of your own you can buy it yourself."

TJ grinned then motioned toward the merchandise sack. "What else did you buy?"

"Not much, just a couple of T-shirts."

"Don't you have enough T-shirts?"

"A girl can never have too many T-shirts, TJ," Phil said as she opened the door of her car and slid out to stand beside her brother.

Motioning toward the restaurant, TJ queried, "Shall we go in? Did you by any chance place our names in the queue?"

She shrugged matter-of-factly. "Why do you think I went in there in the first place? I know how hard it is to get in. It's worth it though."

"I have to agree with you although I hope you don't insist on sitting next to that gold statue."

"Why not? You know how I enjoy the view of those golden buns of steel." Phil grinned, quickly running her tongue over her lips, and made squeezing motions with her hands. 

Groaning, TJ complained, "It's embarrassing to watch you ogle the 'assets' of that statue."

"His 'assets'?" Phil laughed outright. "How appropriate!"

TJ rolled his eyes and made a slight gesture with his right hand. "Flip..." he said, his voice slightly aggrieved.

"Oh, all right, TJ. I'll try not to embarrass you with my behavior besides..." she grinned wickedly at him, "it would only be embarrassing if I fondled his 'assets'."

TJ slapped his hand over his heart and, shaking his head, said, "You'll be the death of me yet, Flip." 

They entered the exotic café and were soon seated beside a large aquarium. Phil looked longingly at the fountain with the golden statue holding a representation of the world on his shoulders. 

"Phil," TJ hissed.

"It doesn't hurt to look, TJ," Phil grinned crookedly at her brother then purposefully turned away from the statue and studied the fish in the aquarium.

"You don't fool me, Flip," TJ said but he echoed her grin. He could see the reflection of the statue in the glass of the aquarium as clearly as if they were sitting beside it. Reaching for the menu, they quickly made their choices and waited for their drinks to arrive.

Phil sipped her 'margorrila' and studied her brother over the rim of her glass. "Thanks for meeting me here, TJ. I only wish Rob could have joined us as well."

Recalling Rob's newest patient and why he was detained at the hospital, TJ smiled inwardly wondering if Fate wasn't trying to tell them something. Catching the wistful smile on Phil's face, he answered, "He's a busy man, Flip. You know how his schedule can be."

"I know, I just wish we could spend more time together." Her gaze lowered, as did her voice.

"He knows that, Flip, and he'd be here if he could."

"Anyway, thanks, TJ. I appreciate you staying with me last night."

"It was nothing, Flip." TJ placed his hand over Phil's. "Besides, when I talked with Trevor he said he was going to the movies and wouldn't miss me at all." 

Phil laughed and shifted her hand when their server brought their food. They ate in companionable silence for several minutes. 

TJ was the first to interrupt their silence. "How **is** Trevor doing? I know he was..." he paused searching for the right word, "anxious about working for you."

"That sounds like him! I tell you, TJ, he is such an 'eager beaver' that I have a hard time finding enough for him to do. He's already made some suggestions for excursions that I think have merit."

"Such as?" TJ smiled as he sipped his drink.

"He mentioned putting together a backpacking trip for fishermen. You know the kind that takes fly fishermen way back into the wilderness to lakes and streams that are pristine and haven't been fished out."

"That sounds interesting."

"He said he got the idea from watching a movie. I think he said it was called **_Shoot to Kill_**. I'm going to have to rent it and watch it."

"I remember that movie. It's about a bloodthirsty killer who joins a trek in to the backcountry to escape the manhunt for him."

"That really eases my mind, TJ." Phil sarcastically replied. What it did was remind her of her experience last summer with the man that had taken her hostage and marched her across the Canadian wilderness.

TJ grinned. "Ever thought of selling your story to some movie makers? You'd made a ton of money." He, too, recalled last summer and the changes that **that** 'adventure' had made in both of their lives. Even now he could recall Cat's smoldering passion and his response to her. With a start he brought his errant thoughts out of the past and turned his attention back to his sister.

"I have absolutely no interest in reliving that experience again, TJ. Besides, I don't want to make a ton of money. I'm happy the way I am."

TJ bit his lower lip as he studied his sister. "I'm glad to hear that, Flip. I admit, though, that I'm a bit surprised at how well you seem to be handling the news that Fraser is here in Chicago."

Phil choked on her drink and began coughing. TJ patted her on the back until she regained control. "I'm sorry, TJ, I just didn't expect you to mention him."

"Phil, you need to talk this out." His voice was smooth but insistent.

Phil knew how serious TJ was. He never called her Phil unless it was something of importance and he wanted to emphasize it. But that didn't mean he understood her situation. No one could understand except someone who had been through what she had. Even TJ's experience with Noelle wasn't the same as her own experience. 

"I really don't want to talk about him, TJ."

"Whether or not you want to, Flip, I think you need to."

"Why?"

"Because I think you have an opportunity to finally put him behind you...if you really want to do that."

"What makes you say that?"

"Phil," he reached out and caught her hand in his, "you're my sister. I've seen what you've gone through over the past 12-13 years. I don't think you've ever really gotten over him. If you really want to make a go with Martin, you need to put Fraser behind you. Don't enter into a relationship with regrets hanging over your head."

"So you think I should see him," she muttered hastily.

"I think you need to do what's best for you. If that means talking to Fraser then so be it."

Drawing her hand back, her eyes widened. "How can you say that?"

"Because I love you and I want you to be happy. I don't think that's possible until you put him behind you. If you can't put him behind you then maybe you should examine whether or not you still love him."

"I can't believe you actually said that! I haven't given him a second thought in years. I don't love him any more. I love Martin." 

Disregarding Phil's flagrant lie, TJ's expressive face changed and became almost somber. "I hope you're right, Flip. I don't want to see you make a wrong choice simply because you refuse to acknowledge what may or may not still exist between you and Fraser. I'm sorry, Flip, but you really need to analyze your actions if you're willing to accept second best."

"So...you think Ben is my only chance for happiness?"

"No, I don't. I think there are many shades of happiness and I only want you to find what's best for you."

Phil settled back in her seat. Everything that TJ had said had been said before by Cat and hinted at by both Casey and Becka. Maybe there was some truth in what they said. Maybe the only way she could give herself whole-heartedly to Martin was by casting out the demon in her life--Ben. Still, that thought sent a quick wave of panic through her. No...she couldn't possibly still have those kinds of feelings for him. The panic was only a reflection of her fears of growing old alone. That wouldn't happen...if she had something to say about it. 

"Thank you, TJ, I know you only want what's best for me and I promise you I will deal with what Ben may or may not mean to me before I make any permanent commitment to Martin."

"That's all I can ask, Flip."

"I have one question for you, TJ."

"Shoot." TJ carefully folded his napkin and placed it on his now empty plate.

"How long have you known that Ben was here in Chicago?"

TJ sat back in his chair and stared at Phil. He knew this question would come up and he'd rehearsed what he would say but now that the time had arisen he was unsure. Clearing his throat, he answered, "I've only known about him since the first of the year. I bumped into him that evening I took Cat home after putting you to bed. You had quite a lot to drink."

"Don't change the subject, TJ," Phil snapped.

"I'm not changing the subject, Flip, and that's the only time I've seen Fraser. I swear!" TJ crossed his heart.

Phil smiled. "What about Rob? Does he know Ben is here?" TJ dropped his eyes and Phil knew instantly that Rob knew about Ben. "And just how long has he known?"

"A couple of years."

"Why didn't either of you tell me?" 

"We didn't want to open any old wounds, Flip. We know how much he hurt you and we didn't want you to go through that again," he said, his voice filled with compassion.

"Then why are you suggesting that I see him?" she whispered, her hand on her breast.

"Because of what I said before. You need to find out what you really feel towards him before you can make any kind of commitment to another man. Look at all the other men you've dated. None of them worked out because they didn't measure up to your image of Fraser."

"I don't do that!"

"Yes, you do," he said with quiet emphasis.

"Well, what about you? You haven't had much luck since Noelle died." Phil regretted saying the words the moment they left her mouth. "I'm sorry, TJ, I didn't mean that."

"I know you didn't, Flip, even though it's the truth. That's why I can say with some measure of authority that you need to clear your past before you can move on." A brief image of Becka Fraser flashed across his thoughts but was quickly gone.

Phil spoke in a broken whisper, "And how do you suggest I do that?"

"Call him." 

"Call him?"

His expression stilled and grew serious. "Yes, and do it soon. Don't let too much time pass or you'll never do it."

"I don't know, TJ."

"Yes, you do, Flip. Do what's right."

"I'll think about it but I'm not making any promises."

They finished their dinner and parted company. TJ returned to the museum, working to finish the displays of artifacts that were soon to be open to the public. Phil headed back to the offices of BakTrak.

It wasn't long before Phil realized that she was driving down Stetson Avenue. How she had gotten there was beyond her. In the near distance she could see the Canadian Consulate. Making a split decision, she pulled into a vacant parking space and, slamming the door behind her, threaded through the traffic on Stetson. Climbing the steps to the consulate, she drew in a deep breath before opening the doors and entering. Another flight of stairs faced her and she climbed them finally stopping before a desk with a Mountie seated behind it, his dark head bent over some paperwork. Her heart caught in her throat until the man raised his head and looked at her.

"May I be of service, Ma'am?" Constable Cooper asked.

"I...I'd like to speak to Benton Fraser." To her dismay, her voice broke slightly. Phil was certain that the Mountie could hear the loud beating of her heart. She trembled as she waited for an answer. 

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but Constable Fraser is not here today."

Phil released her held breath surprised at how shaky it was. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. "Do you know when he'll be back?" Little did the Mountie know how much effort it took to ask that simple question.

"No, I don't, Ma'am. May I take a message?"

Did she want Ben to know she'd tried to find him? No, if and when she spoke to him it would be on her terms. It would be better if he never knew she had attempted this visit. Secretly she was relieved that he wasn't there. On second thought, it was entirely inappropriate for her to be there. The more she thought about it, the more she convinced herself that she had made a wrong decision in coming here. 

After a long pause, during which she fought for control, Phil spoke to the Mountie who waited for her answer, "No, that won't be necessary. It's not important. Perhaps I'll try some other day." 

She spun on her heels and quickly descended the stairs. Racing across Stetson, she climbed into her car and, placing her arms on the steering wheel, laid her head on them. What in the world had possessed her to try to see Ben? She pulled away from the curb, feeling hysterical laughter threaten to overwhelm her. She must really be stupid to have done what she just did. It was Ben's move. If he wanted to see her then he needed to make the first move not her. But the words of TJ as well as Cat and Becka and Casey continued to swirl around in her head and she felt the onset of another migraine headache. 

Pulling into her parking garage, she hurried to her apartment, dropping her keys in her haste. Reaching down, she recovered her keys, her head throbbing to the beat of her heart. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath and slowly let it flow out past her gritted teeth. Another breath and she opened her eyes and continued on to her apartment. Once inside, she hastened to her bathroom and took a couple of tablets of the medicine Rob had left for her the previous evening. She flopped on her bed and threw an arm across her face blocking the light from the window. A moment later she reached for the phone and dialed her office. 

"BakTrak, Inc. This is Jeff Bowers."

"Jeff, this is Phil. I'm in my apartment. I have another headache and I just took my medicine. I'll be down when it takes effect."

"Phil, don't hurry down just because you feel obligated to. After all, you're the boss. You can take off whenever you feel like it."

"I know, Jeff, I just don't like to do that."

"Honestly, Phil, there's nothing happening that can't wait until tomorrow. Trevor and I are doing just fine." Jeff smiled at the young man working steadily at the desk in Mark's office. "Frankly, Phil, it appears to me that you came back to work too soon after your last headache. That's why you have another one."

"Thank you, Dr. Bowers," Phil grudgingly replied. "Okay, I'll stay here. Close up for me?"

"Of course I will. You take care of yourself."

"I will." Phil hung up the phone and settled back on the bed. She kicked off her shoes and stretched. Closing her eyes, she quickly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Although he'd readily agreed to call Cat Madden it took Ray more than two days to raise the courage to tell Ben. It went pretty much as he'd anticipated.

"Don't call her, Ray," Ben advised his friend. "You remember what happened last time."

Ray's thoughts drifted to Cat and for a moment he understood Ben's reluctance, but he had learned a great deal since then. He ran his hands over his face and stared at the man on the bed. "But I gotta call her, Benny."

"All right, Ray," Ben said, nodding his head. "If you want Cat coming down here and ordering doctors around again. Not to mention what she'll do to you and me."

Ray's remembered his first meeting with Cat Madden. She had been a force to be reckoned with that night as she stormed through Cook County hot on the tail of Dr. McKenzie. "Maybe you're right, Benny."

"You know I'm right, Ray, and, besides, I really don't want to bother Cat with my problems."

"Your problems? Benny, you've been seriously injured. Don't you think she should know about that?" He rose from his chair and paced about the room finally perching on the edge of the bed and smiling gently at his friend. "You know we've got to tell her, Benny."

Ben turned his head and stared out the window, suddenly very intent on the actions of the pigeons on the window ledge. "No, Ray," he said eventually. "She's got too many other things to think about. She doesn't want to be bothered by me." A momentary lapse of resolve allowed a measure of sadness to briefly cross his face.

Ray, catching sight of the sad expression, slid off the bed and stepped into Ben's line of vision, leaning casually back against the windowsill. "If you're talking about this Hope guy then you gotta know that I think you're wrong."

"Ray..."

"No, Fraser, you know better than that. You're family to Cat. You know as well as I do she would drop everything if you needed her."

"Well..."

"And if we don't tell her you know she's gonna tear strips off both of us when she does find out."

Ben fell silent, staring out the window contemplating what his friend told him.

"And she **will** find out. Becka won't keep quiet about this for long." Ben nodded. He knew Ray was right. "And you're gonna need taking care of when you get out of here. Now, unless you want Frannie moving into your apartment as your own personal nurse, I suggest you go stay with Cat for a while."

The thought of Ray's ebullient sister caring for him sent waves of near panic through him. He would rather face Cat's concern than Frannie's 'nursing' any day. "You tell her, Ray."

Silently pleased with this small victory, Ray switched the conversation around to the Little case. "Forensics went over the warehouse once more, Benny."

Grateful for the change in subject, Ben perked up. "Did they find anything?" 

"I don't know yet. I do know that the fire completely destroyed that hidden room. I went down there this morning and there's nothing left but a mass of twisted metal."

"Really? You never did say what you saw in the room before the bomb exploded."

"It was the strangest thing, Benny, there wasn't much left but you could still see the cradles on the wall where something big must have hung--maybe a missile or something like that. Don't know how they would have gotten it in that small room, though. There was also what looked like a computer and a refrigerator at the far end. I couldn't see much and you pulled me away before I had a chance to examine it further."

"Well, it was urgent that we leave before the bomb exploded."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but I still would've liked to have had a chance to go over that room better. You know the forensics boys did say that they detected radiation in the rubble. Maybe that was a nuclear missile hidden there."

"Have you checked to see if any nuclear armaments are missing?"

"I've got Elaine doing that now. Don't worry, Benny, I've thought of everything." Ray crossed his fingers behind his back then winced when that movement pulled at his burns. Minor though they were they were still an irritant and a reminder of what had almost happened.

"Ray, are you all right?" Ben asked, his voice full of concern.

"I'm fine, Benny, just got reminded of my burns."

"Thank you, Ray," Ben said quietly. 

Ray smiled and nodded. "You're welcome, Benny." 

* * *

Ray fidgeted, twisting the phone cord around his finger, waiting for the reaction he knew would come.

"What do you mean _'he's in the hospital'_?"

"You promised you wouldn't freak out."

"I lied!"

"You lied? Oh, Cat, this is serious." Ray's tone turned mock serious. "Won't they take away your honesty badge?"

"Fuck you, Ray. You're lucky we're separated by several hundred kilometers."

"Woohoo," Ray laughed into the phone. "Benny said you'd be upset."

"Upset barely covers it." Cat's voice lowered, "You were supposed to be taking care of him, Ray. I can't believe it, he's been in hospital a week and you didn't call me?" Cat's cool tone barely concealed her anger or her concern.

"It's only been a couple of days and he asked me not to," Ray said gently.

Cat sighed into the phone, composing her thoughts before speaking again. "How did it happen, Ray?"

"We were investigating a gun running case and we...well, there was this bomb and..."

"What do you mean _'there was this bomb'_?" Cat demanded of the man on the other end of the phone.

"You know bombs--boom boom, lots of noise. You're a cop. Wait, you don't have crime in Canada, do you?"

"Not funny, Ray. Ben's been in an explosion and you're making jokes!" She took a deep breath and launched into a tirade about how she couldn't leave them alone for a minute and wasn't Ray supposed to be taking care of Ben anyway?

Ray flinched, recalling how he had flung his body across Ben's to protect him from falling debris. But this call was about Benny not about his injuries. "Cat! Stop!" Ray said firmly. "Before you freak out any more, he's fine. Doing well. But he needs rest."

"I'll get a flight as soon as I can."

"No, wait." Ray ran a hand across his face and in a calmer voice said, "I don't think that's a good idea. I don't think he's going to get what he needs here."

"What are you saying?"

"Well between the Dragon Lady and whatever has been going on during Becka's visit, he's real stressed. Now this happens and well, I think he'd be better off getting away from here for a while."

"What's going on? What's happened with Becka's visit? Why didn't he tell me any of this?"

"He didn't want you to know, Cat. He's got this idea in his head that you're too busy with this Hope guy to be interested in what's going on with him."

Cat sucked in a breath. "Oh god. How could he think that? He knows how important he is to me."

"Maybe he's forgotten," Ray said almost as an afterthought.

"That does it, I'm catching the next plane to Chicago."

"Cat, don't do that. I've had enough problems convincing Benny to let me call you. Don't come down here and run roughshod over him. I don't think he could handle it. Besides, Becka's postponed leaving for Canada to stay here until Benny's out of the hospital and she's doing a great job of keeping his spirits up."

Cat drew in several calming breaths then said, "If you think that's best..." 

"I do."

"Well, then, what can I do?"

"Invite him to visit you as soon as he's released from the hospital. In fact, Dr. McKenzie suggested this very thing to me."

Surprised, Cat asked, "Dr. Robert McKenzie?"

"Yeah, you remember him? He was Benny's doctor after..." Ray's voice trailed off. He still had difficulty saying the words--after he'd shot his best friend.

"I remember him, Ray." How could she not? He was part of Lloyd's extended family and she'd seen him not three weeks ago. It was interesting to think that Rob had suggested that Ben visit her--very interesting indeed.

"How much longer will he stay in the hospital?" she asked.

"Well, he's still in traction and Dr. McKenzie said that as soon as he came out of traction he'd consider letting Benny come home."

"Traction? You said nothing about traction," Cat's voice climbed again. "Is there anything else you haven't told me?"

Ray thought about his own injuries but said, "No, I think I've pretty much covered everything."

"If I find out that you've lied to me, Ray, you'll have to answer to me and I can be pretty hardassed when it comes to calling in accounts." Her voice was deceptively calm.

"You've got me shaking in my boots." Ray laughed and winced as a twinge went through his healing back. 

Cat smiled recalling Ray's teasing nature. "Now why do I find that hard to believe?"

"Probably because you know you don't mean it."

"I mean it, Ray. If you're holding back anything, I'll...I'll..."

"I'm not holding back anything concerning Benny. Honestly, Cat, if you don't believe me you can check with Dr. McKenzie." 

Cat bit back her next remark. She could give Rob a call and get the full facts on Ben's case so there must be something else that Ray wasn't telling her. "Ray, I know there's something else you aren't telling me. Are you forgetting about my intuition?"

"Damn," he whispered. He'd forgotten about that.

"I know...there is something...you aren't...telling me. Don't let me have to take it out of your hide, Ray. What is it?"

"It's nothing, Cat. If I thought it was important I'd tell you and it doesn't have anything to do with Benny."

"I don't believe you, Ray, but I'll leave it alone...for now. In the meantime, tell Becka to give me a call. I can't believe she hasn't called me."

"If I know Benny he made her promise not to."

"But you called me."

"I didn't make Benny that promise but I **did** promise you I'd call if something happened to him. He had no choice in the matter."

"Just make sure Becka calls me."

"I'll tell her." Ray made his farewells and after hanging up ran a hand across his face. He knew he was in for some rough weather when Cat found out about his own injuries.

* * *

Phil carried her cup of hot chocolate into the living room and set it on the coffee table. She turned on her stereo system and searched for the CD she had bought before going to the opening of TJ's exhibit at the museum with Martin. Martin had picked her up before she'd had a chance to listen to the music. Another day had passed before she had some time to herself. Now, when she wanted it she couldn't find it. Where could that CD be? 

Sighing in frustration, she rifled through the materials on the coffee table, her desk, the dining table, and any other place it might have ended up. Frankly, after that prolonged kiss Martin has given her she had forgotten just about everything. Where had the CD landed? Phil got down on her hands and knees and peered beneath the sofa. Straightening back up, she grinned with satisfaction. Although not under the sofa, her position on the floor had brought the errant CD (tucked safely between the cushions of the sofa) into view.

Grabbing the CD, she hurried back to the stereo and inserted the disc in the player. Smiling in satisfaction, she returned to the sofa, her cup of hot chocolate, and the cross-stitched wall hanging she was working on. To the sounds of Elton John, she worked steadily on the gift for Rob's birthday.

Stretching luxuriously, her hand brushed the wall hanging that hung behind the sofa. Momentarily distracted, Phil idly ran a finger over the scene pictured on it. Closing her eyes, she pulled from the depths of her memories the image of Thunder Basin. It had been a great experience to trek back up there and share her little spot of paradise with Casey. 

Thoughts of Casey brought Trevor to mind and Phil smiled. It was wonderful having him here for several weeks. Although not related, Phil thought of him as a nephew or, sometimes, like a younger brother. His exuberant nature had been refreshing at the exhibit last night. A brief shadow crossed her thoughts as she recalled Martin's offhand remark about _'needing to grow up'_. Yes, Trevor had been excited and tended to talk a lot but he had never been rude or obnoxious. In fact, he reminded Phil of TJ when he was younger and TJ was one of the finest men she knew. It must be that Bostonian upper-class upbringing of Martin's. He wasn't used to the more laid-back approach to life that exemplified the Western way-of-life. 

Phil stretched once more, the stretch ending in a yawn. Shaking herself slightly, she laid her needlework aside and rose from the sofa. Calling to Chance, she headed to bed. A quick shower, her favorite silk pajama top, a cat at the foot of her bed, and she was ready for sleep. Tossing the covers aside, Phil sprawled across the bed and ran her hand across Chance's black fur. His contented purring carried to her and she rolled over and scooted up to the head of the bed. Her eyes drifted to her dreamcatcher and she smiled to herself. Maybe the dreams she had tonight would be good ones. Rolling onto her stomach, Phil closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Hours later, Phil drifted in that stage of sleep that was the realm of dreams. Although the volume on the stereo had been turned down, the words of the Elton John/LeAnn Rimes duet had penetrated her subconscious and now played back across the landscape of her dreams. 

**__**

I am here to tell you we can never meet again  
Simple really, isn't it, a word or two and then  
A lifetime of not knowing where or how or why or when  
You think of me or speak of me or wonder what befell  
The someone you once loved so long ago so well

Slipping into one she found herself in the throes of passionate love. Closing her eyes, she gave herself over to the sensations and hugged the strong firm body that thrust into her depths. Her heartbeat quickened and she felt the long repressed desires curl within her and begin to build. When she reached the point where she was sure she would explode, she felt the firm male body above her gasp and drive his member deep within her welcoming warmth. The spasms that rocked him drove her over the edge and she climaxed, convulsively gripping his shaft with her muscles. The man slid to her side and protectively curled around her body. She snuggled contentedly in his arms and traced small circles on his chest. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too, Phil." The words whispered against her ear.

Phil gasped in surprise and confusion. Pulling free of the arms that held her so gently, she rose on her elbow and stared, wide-eyed, down at the satiated man lying beside her. "Ben? Why are you here?"

Ben gently stroked her cheek and ran a finger across her pursed lips. "I'm here because we are meant to be together. You know that here." His finger traced a line from her lips to a point on her breast directly above her heart.

The words of the song echoed in her mind. "I know, Ben, but you left me and now we can never be together." All the longing and pain she'd experienced in the years separating them echoed in her voice.

Ben smiled gently then took one of her hands and kissed her fingers. "Nonsense, Phil, everyone deserves a second chance and maybe there's a second chance for us."

"How?" Phil drew her hand back.

"I don't know, love, I just know that you mustn't turn your back on your second chance just as I mustn't."

"But how will I know?" she softly pleaded.

"You just will, Phil. You just will." Ben's voice faded as his image faded leaving Phil alone. 

Struggling to consciousness, she sat up and ran her hands through her hair. Confusion warred with disbelief and anger. Why did he have to invade her thoughts? Why did he have to remind her that he was the last man to make love to her? Why did she still feel his body pressed against hers and the flames of desire that had smoldered between them? Why did his memory continue to haunt her? Could there be a second chance with him? Did she want a second chance? And what about Martin?

No! There could never be another chance with Ben. Martin was here and now. Better to take what was a certainty than to grasp at something that could never be. But why did Ben still inhabit the periphery of her thoughts? Maybe what TJ said was true, maybe she needed to face him and, once and for all, banish him from her life. Maybe...

* * *

Cat sat at her desk staring out the window, her thoughts several hundred kilometers to the south. What was going on down there in Chicago? Maybe she should fly down there anyway. Something wasn't right and she hated not knowing what that was. The ringing of the phone startled her and she self-consciously reached for it.

"Sergeant? There's a call for you from Chicago. It's Constable Rebecca Fraser," Constable Marchand voice came from the other end of the line. "Line 2." 

"Thank you, Marchand." Cat depressed the button for line 2. "Well, it's about time you gave me a call, Becka. I had to find out from Ray that something had happened to Ben."

"I'm sorry, Cat, but you know Benny. He was adamant that I not call you. He doesn't even know that I'm calling you now."

"I told Ray to tell you to call me. I'm glad he did."

"Ray? Ray didn't say anything to me. Of course, I haven't seen him since yesterday. He's got this case that is really...but that's not important."

"The gun runners?" If Cat knew Ray, he'd be working overtime trying to solve the case that had resulted in injury to his best friend.

"Yes, I believe so. So you know about everything?"

"Ray told me there was an explosion and that Ben was injured and that's all that he told me."

The sound of laughter carried over the line before Becka spoke once more, "That sounds like Ray. He probably didn't tell you about his injuries, either."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. I knew there was something he wasn't telling me."

"Calm down, Cat. Ray's fine. He sustained some burns to his back when he threw himself across Benny to protect him from falling debris. Other than that he's okay. He went back to work the next day."

"When I see that sleazy Italian I am going to..." Many different methods of torture paraded across Cat's mind.

"You're going to hug him and thank him for protecting Benny and saving his life."

Cat sucked in a calming breath. "I'll think about it, Becka, but that still doesn't explain why you haven't called me."

"Benny didn't want me to bother you with his problems. Don't worry, I told him what I thought about that! Anyway, this is the first chance I've had to use the phone without having a horde of Vecchios breathing down my back."

"Vecchios?" Cat tried to hide the horror in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm staying with Ray's family for a few days. Mrs. Vecchio insisted and that woman doesn't take no for an answer." 

Cat grinned remembering her own experiences with Ray's mother. "How are you managing?"

"I'm doing great once I figured out the 'rules of engagement'. Actually, I've enjoyed my stay here. Frannie and..."

"Holy shit, Frannie. How are you two getting along?" _'Probably at each other's throat,'_ Cat thought.

Becka laughed. "Frannie and I hit it off just great. After all, I'm not competition for you-know-who. We've been shopping and she's teaching me how to fix some Italian dishes. Frannie's a really nice woman."

"Speak for yourself, Becka. She reminded me of a mountain cat defending her prey."

"Like I said, I'm not competition. Although, you know, she really doesn't have a chance with him. You were right."

"About Phil?"

"Yes. She's a nice person once you get past all those defenses she has and she still loves Benny."

"I told you so." There was no gloating in Cat's voice.

"Yes you did and you were right. We've got to get them back together."

"I'm working on it."

"I know you are, Cat, and I'll...I'll see what I can do to help."

Cat smiled to herself. "Good. Now tell me about TJ. What did you think of him?

"Oh, Cat." There was a pause before Becka's soft voice continued, "I wish you'd never arranged for us to meet."

"Why not?" Cat was puzzled. Becka and TJ seemed like the perfect match.

"You know there could never be anything between us and yet you sent me to meet him..."

"He got to you?"

"Yeah, you could say that. I guess seeing him only made me realize just how lonely I am. Maybe I'll meet someone at my next posting who can forget my past."

"What's wrong with TJ?"

"Cat, you know that's not possible. Not with Benny and Phil and everything."

Cat sagely nodded her head. She understood quite well--first Ben and Phil, then, maybe, Becka and TJ. "Understood. So, you've decided to stick with the RCMP?"

"Yeah, I thought I'd give it another chance. I'm still deciding on which posting to accept."

The conversation continued for a few more minutes before Becka rang off. Cat sat back in her chair, relieved that circumstances seemed to be heading in the right direction. Opening a drawer, she withdrew paper and pen and began a letter to Ben. She'd invite him to visit as Ray had suggested. It would be a good chance to talk to Ben about Phil.

* * *

"Well, Benny, I thought I should tell you that I called Cat and you were right." Ray Vecchio settled into the large chair beside the hospital bed.

"She freaked?"

"Big time."

"Oh dear." 

"That don't even cover it, Benny."

"I wish that you hadn't called her, Ray." Ben ran a thumb across his left eyebrow.

"I realize that, Benny, but I promised Cat that I would let her know if anything happened. You wouldn't want me to break a promise, would you?" Ray asked, a cheeky smile on his face.

"I guess not, Ray. I just don't like to needlessly alarm Cat. She has enough on her hands as it is."

"Benny, when it comes to family there is no such thing as a needless alarm. Did you really want Cat to find out about this from someone else? How do you think she'd feel? I know the two of you haven't been on the best of terms since..."

"Since I made the mistake of proposing to her."

"I didn't say that."

"I know, Ray, and I'm grateful that you've never said _'I told you so'_. Becka's visit has helped me put my life back in perspective. I realize now that Cat and I were not meant to be together. I just lost sight of that fact." Another thought crossed Ben's mind and he turned his face away from Ray. Maybe the truth was even simpler than that. Maybe, just maybe, he'd used Cat and his feelings for her as a way of ignoring his feelings for Phil. Why did love have to be so hard? Maybe he was better off not having to deal with it after all.

Not sure if he was convinced, Ray said, "Well, that's good to hear, Benny. I was really worried about you." Maybe it was time to change the subject and he had just the thing to do it. A Cheshire Cat grin settled on his face. 

Curious, Ben asked, "What is it, Ray?"

"Why don't you ask me about the Little case?"

Welcoming the opportunity to change the subject, Ben considered the question for a moment then asked, "How are you progressing with the Little case, Ray?" 

Ray's grin widened. "I solved it."

"You solved it?" Ben tried to sit up but the traction unit kept him immobile.

Ray placed a restraining hand on Ben's arm. "Yes. I **do** occasionally solve cases without your help, Benny." 

"I realize that, Ray. It's just that you haven't mentioned much about the case except that forensics had detected radiation in the rubble. Was it a nuclear weapon of some sort?"

"Not even close." Ray smiled broadly. He really enjoyed being able to gloat. Somehow, whenever he worked a case with Fraser, he seemed to get lost in the background--not this time, however.

"Not a weapon," Ben said more to himself than to Ray. Running his tongue across his lower lip, he asked, "Weapons-grade uranium, plutonium?"

"Nope."

Ben smiled as the obvious answer came to him. "How about spent fuel rods?"

Images of a speeding train filled with unconscious Mounties flashed across Ray's mind. "I don't even want to go there, Benny, but the answer is no--no fuel rods."

"Am I going to have to continue guessing until I get it right or you tell me?" Ben asked in exasperation.

"Yeah," Ray voice contained a hint of glee.

"Okay. Let's see...radiation but no weapons or fuel rods." Ben let his gaze drift to the window although he didn't see the pigeons or the clouds passing. He was deep in thought. "What about radioactive ore? Uraninite, pitchblende, gummite, torbernite, autunite, carnotite..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Benny. I ain't never heard of any of those whatsatites."

"Radioactive minerals, Ray." Ben smiled briefly.

"Whatever." Ray shook his hands before him. "They weren't there either. No radioactive minerals."

"That pretty much narrows it down--medical waste or logging tools."

"Logging tools? What? They power those chainsaws with nuclear energy?" he asked knowing that Ben would come back with a snappy retort.

"No, Ray. I meant tools for radioactive well logging. It's a common practice in the oil industry."

Ray digested that little bit of information before, once more, shaking his head. "No well logging, no oil industry."

"That only leaves medical waste."

"Not quite, Benny," Ray spoke eagerly. "There's one other thing you haven't thought of."

"And that would be?" Ben's left eyebrow rose a fraction.

"Medical supplies."

"Of course," Ben exclaimed, "radioactive isotopes are routinely used as tracers by the medical profession. That's what produces all that radioactive medical waste."

"Yeah, it seems Little Mike was helping these gun runners diversify into the medical supplies area. Oh, we finally got a name out of him--Nash as in Lloyd P."

Ben once more tried to sit up. Once more the traction unit held him immobile. "Lloyd P. Nash? As in...?" Lloyd Nash was a name he was familiar with.

"Yeah, what kinda name is that for a criminal? Do you know what the P stands for?"

"No, Ray, you never told me."

"Percival. Can you believe it? Lloyd Percival Nash, what a sissy name. Anyway, it seems that ever since we 'shook his peaches' over the Gerard case he's been looking to change his line of business. Found out that there was a huge demand for medical supplies. Little Mike was one of his main men--did a lot of the arrangements with foreign buyers."

"It seems unlikely that Little would...what is the term?...flop over on Nash."

"Roll over, Benny, roll over."

"Roll over on Nash. Sorry, Ray." The thumb raked across the eyebrow as Ben sought to commit the idiomatic expression to memory.

"You gotta learn the lingo, Benny. Anyway, Little Mike didn't want to roll over on Nash but I convinced him to make a deal with the DA."

"Convinced?" Both eyebrows were arched now.

"With a little help from a couple of detectives from the 58th. Just gave him a taste of prison life. He was singing like a bird when I left--couldn't talk fast enough. Man, some men just are not cut out for the criminal lifestyle."

"So?"

"So we made a raid on an Algerian freighter and hit the jackpot. I tell you, Benny, there must've been close to a million in medical supplies headed for the Middle East. The FBI and CIA have been climbing all over this. There have been so many Feds in the station that I get hives every time I go in there. They're all over themselves trying to unravel where the supplies would have ultimately ended up. My guess is some of those terrorist training spots we hear about but everyone denies. What do you think, Benny?"

"I think you may be right, Ray. I just read recently where several terrorist organizations had approached the government of Australia asking if they could send their wounded to Australian hospitals during times of 'unrest'. I believe the government said no as did several other countries."

Ray rose from his chair and began pacing. He excitedly waved his hands in the air. "That makes sense, Benny. What if these terrorists are trying to set up their own hospitals and are acquiring medical supplies through the black market? What do you think?"

"I think you've done an outstanding job, Ray. My congratulations for a job well done."

Ray accepted the congratulations with a tiny smile. "Yeah, the Lieutenant said I'd be getting a citation for this." 

"Something you well deserve."

"Thanks. I couldn't have done it without you, Benny."

"Of course, you could have, Ray. You don't need me to be a good cop. You are already one of the best I know and I'm proud to be your partner."

"Me, too. I mean be your partner." Ray chuckled. "However, I have to admit that the original idea of medical supplies wasn't mine."

"Then who?"

"Trevor Sinclair."

"Trevor?" Ben asked his eyebrows flashing upward once more.

"Yeah, it seems he has a summer job filling in for someone at what sounds like a travel agency."

"Hmmm? That doesn't sound like something Trevor would be interested in doing."

"From what I understand, he doing it to help out his aunt and you know how family things are." Ray scrunched his mouth up into a sour grimace.

"I believe the phrase 'grin and bear it' comes to mind."

"How right you are, Benny. How right you are."

* * *

Phil reached for the phone again only to replace the receiver with the number half-dialed. Why was she doing this? It wasn't as if she cared? When Trevor had casually mentioned that a friend of his was in the hospital, she had thought nothing of it. Only when Trevor mentioned his name, had she felt her heart plummet and a cold chill race up and down her spine. 

She was surprised at how deftly she'd extracted the information from Trevor. He was more than willing to tell her how he'd met Ben Fraser and formed an immediate rapport. Phil half-listened to the story, worry and other emotions churning away inside. Finally, Trevor had volunteered the information she'd refused to ask--what hospital and why. Now she sat, playing with her phone, indecision preventing her from getting any work done.

Disgusted, she threw a foam-rubber ball (a gift from Mark and Jeff for those times when she had difficulty expressing herself) across her office. He was all right. He was recovering. What more did she need to know? She reached for another ball. She thought about calling Rob but rejected that idea immediately. That's all she needed, Rob questioning why she was interested in the man she claimed meant nothing to her. Well, he didn't. She tossed the third ball. She just didn't like the thought of anyone being hurt.

Softly cursing, she pushed away from the desk and hunted for her shoes. If she were going to do this then she would just go do it and get it done. She knew it would be more impersonal to do it over the phone but with a phone order you were never quite sure what was being sent. No, she'd go and get something nondescript, something simple. 

Leaving her office, she called to Trevor and Jeff, "I'm going to run a quick errand. I'll be back shortly."

Jeff glanced up then turned back to Trevor, "Don't hurry back, Phil. I'm showing Trevor some of the programs we use."

"You could at least say you'll miss me." Phil placed her hands on her hips and tried to look indignant.

"Okay, we'll miss you, bye!" Jeff said without missing a beat.

Phil grinned wryly and shook her head then left the office. She hurried down the stairway and, after exiting the building, turned left. Just around the corner was the perfect store for her needs. She walked briskly telling herself that this was simply an act of compassion. 

* * *

In the early morning hours, when the ebb and flow of life forces are at their lowest, a man's thoughts turn to mortality and the regrets over what might have been. This is especially true in a hospital. The pervading pain of his injured back and ribs prevented sleep from coming easily. And what little bit he had was fitful and restless. Ben opened his eyes and stared out the window at the night sky wishing for the light pollution to dissipate enough for the stars to shine through. He shifted slightly--as much as the brace would allow him. A low moan slipped past his lips and was quickly suppressed.

"We have medication that can help alleviate some of that pain," Rob said as he stepped into the room. He'd stood in the doorway for several minutes studying the man in the traction unit. 

Ben turned his head and smiled briefly. "I try to avoid all unnecessary medications."

"So, now you're the doctor?" Rob grinned as he asked the question. 

"I didn't mean...of course not...I just..." Ben stammered to a halt.

"Constable..."

"Ben, please."

Rob stared down into Ben's eyes for a moment then acquiesced. "Ben, I realize that you would like to do this with as little help as possible but sometimes you need to accept the help that is offered. I've prescribed the pain medication so that you can rest. Have you gotten much sleep tonight?"

Ben paused for a moment then slowly shook his head. "I don't like the feeling of losing control that that medicine gives me."

"It's the narcotic in the medicine." Rob came closer to the bed where Ben could see him without turning his head. "You know, Ben, that many people would pay good money for the 'feeling of losing control' that you find so abhorrent and here I am offering it to you for free--well, almost free," Rob joked. "What about losing control do you **not** like?"

"All of it. I've always been in complete control of my life and I...I..."

Rob smiled. "I understand, Ben. It's hard to depend on others when you've only had yourself to depend on for so long. Being here," Rob waved his hand indicating the room, "must be like a slap in the face."

"No offense, Dr. McKenzie, but this **is** one of the last places on earth that I'd choose to be in."

"No offense taken. Now, I'm going to call the nurse's station and have them bring you something. Think of it this way, Ben, the medication will help you rest. The more rest you get the quicker you will heal. The quicker you heal the sooner you can go home."

"Understood." Ben waited until Rob finished his call then asked, "Dr. McKenzie, may I ask you a question?"

Rob nodded his head wondering if Ben would ask about Phil. "Go ahead."

"Why are you here this late in the night?"

A nurse bringing Ben's pain medication interrupted them. Ben watched as she swabbed the port on his IV and injected a clear fluid into the already clear fluid flowing through the tube. Did he imagine it or was there a change in the temperature of the medication as it flowed from the needle in his hand into the waiting vein? Whatever it was, it seemed to spread from that spot. Muscles he had not realized were so tense began to relax and the pervading pain quietly faded into the background.

Rob watched as the nurse administered the injection then waited for it to take effect. He then answered Ben's question. "I'm on call this week and I was called in about four hours ago for an emergency. I just finished up in OR and was on my way home."

Ben searched Rob's face. "Why did you come by my room? Surely you must have thought I would be asleep."

Rob thought of all the different things he could say to this man that would be truthful. Still, he knew what he had to say. "Frankly, Ben, I don't want to be the one to tell Flip that something happened to you while you were under my care. You haven't noticed it but I always stop by your room before I go home of a night."

"Does she know I'm here?"

"No, and I'm not going to tell her. She didn't know about the last time you were here either. You did enough damage to her life years ago, Fraser. I won't have you hurt her again." Rob cut himself off abruptly, he'd almost said too much.

Ben turned his head back to stare out the window. "Believe me when I say that I would never do that to her. I've already caused too much pain in her life. She must hate me for what I did to her."

"I think hate is a little strong. Right now I'd say she's more confused than anything else. But that's another story and one, I think, best left untold. I'll say goodnight, Ben, and I'll check on you tomorrow morning." Rob briefly squeezed Ben's hand then left the room.

Ben stared after Rob's departing back thinking over what he'd just said. Confused--that also described his feelings. He was confused as well. He turned his head and stared out the window once more but could not keep his thoughts from drifting to Phil. Sighing, he reached for the controls of the TV and searched for a music channel. Finding one, he half-heartedly listened to the song as he stared at the night sky once more. Unable to distract himself by watching the faint stars, he reached for the book Becka had brought to him. His hand stopped as he caught sight of the small vase of flowers sitting beside the book. 

Who would send him flowers? His eyes shifted to take in the various floral arrangements that already graced his room, evidence of the many friends he had but these flowers had had no note, no indication of who they were from. Who would send him **these** flowers? Who would know what these flowers meant to him? Who would know that the very sight of these columbines would unleash bittersweet memories?

A new song began and Ben caught himself listening to the words, his heart sinking as the tale unfolded. How was it possible for a British songwriter to understand his feelings, his thoughts as well as this man seemed to understand him? One stanza repeated itself over and over in his mind.

**__**

Nothing can be altered, there is nothing to decide  
No escape, no change of heart, no anyplace to hide  
You are all I'll ever want, but this I am denied  
Sometimes in my darkest thoughts, I wish I'd never learned  
What it is to be in love and have that love returned

Her name echoed in the black stillness of his mind. He closed his eyes drawing from that corner of his mind his memories of Phil. He would never forget a single detail of her face. Her brown eyes haunted him, laughing, serious, thoughtful. Her lips invited his kiss and the taste of her drowned his senses. He could still feel her arms clasped around him as she laid her cheek on his chest listening to his heartbeat. He recalled the ecstasy of being held against her feminine curves, of tracing his fingers over her satin-smooth skin, of burying his face in her lavender-scented hair. How could he have ever let her go? 

Flinging his eyes open, he thrust Phil's memories back to the corner where he kept them locked away. She was gone and would never return and he had no one but himself to blame. No one to share his pain and loneliness. All he had to cling to were his sister and his friends.

His thoughts shifted to Becka. Many a night has been spent reminiscing and getting to know each other again. Over the time that she'd been here visiting him he'd seen a change in her. He knew she'd resolved some of her problems but there were still others that faced her. How could he help her with them? How could he tell her to abandon the RCMP or stick with it? That problem was actually a lot easier to deal with than the one Becka had never mentioned--her loneliness. He didn't know if she'd even recognized that problem herself. He'd only figured it out himself after that night when she'd gone for coffee with TJ McKenzie. How could he offer her advice when his own love life was in such a mess? No, the only thing he could tell her with some authority was that love hurt and she was better off without it. He doubted that she would understand, though.

At least Cat had found happiness. Ben hoped that this man, this Lloyd Hope, was the right man for her. If he did anything to hurt her, Ben would hunt him down and make him wish he'd never been born. With a guilty start, he realized what Rob and TJ must have gone through when he left Phil. How could Rob stand to talk with him much less be his doctor with that hanging over their heads? Ben's appreciation for Rob's skills as a doctor rose. 

He'd have to talk to Cat about Lloyd. Maybe he was letting his own feelings for Cat stand in the way. Lord knows he still loved her and would marry her if she would just say the word. Somehow, he knew that wouldn't happen. He knew that Cat loved Lloyd in a way that she had never loved him. Why did that thought hurt? He'd loved Phil in a way that he'd never loved Cat. Did Lloyd make her feel complete? Did he fill all the empty spaces in her soul--just as Phil had completed him and filled him with her presence? 

Maybe love for him was standing aside and watching the people he loved getting on with their lives. Maybe love was sharing, however remotely, the love that graced their lives. Maybe love was learning to live within himself--as complete and as whole as he could be by himself--not longing for something that didn't exist--something that could never be recaptured. Maybe love was simply existing from day to day.

Maybe this was something he needed to share with Ray. He'd seen how Ray had nearly fallen apart after returning from Houston. He understood how Ray felt not being able to have and hold the woman he loved. Maybe Ray was like him--destined to live a solitary life. Maybe that's why they were such good friends. Maybe...

He closed his eyes once more and as his mind slipped into sleep he heard a husky voice call his name. How could he ever forget what love **really** was with this constant reminder? How could he forget the taste and feel of velvet lips locked with his as passions soared out of control? How could he ever forget the love that had been his once upon a time? 

* * *

"Thanks, Frannie, I really do appreciate the lift," Becka spoke as she climbed out of Francesca's tiny car.

"Don't mention it, Becka. It's the least I could do," Frannie countered as she opened the door and climbed from her side of the car.

"You don't have to come up."

"I know, but you could use some help with all this stuff." Frannie motioned toward the various packages and storage tubs occupying the back seat.

Becka sighed heavily and shook her head. "I really wish your mother hadn't been so generous, Frannie."

Frannie snorted. "Be thankful you got away with only a third of what she had planned."

"A third?" 

"At least." Frannie smirked and opened the trunk of her car. Pulling out a cardboard box, she came around to the sidewalk side of the car. Placing the box on the sidewalk, she pushed the car seat forward and began handing packages and tubs to Becka. "Ma never was one to let someone go away empty-handed and with Benton coming home soon...well, Ma, thinks he'll need some nourishing food and you'll be busy taking care of..." Frannie paused clasping a dish of homemade ravioli to her breast. If only she could be the one to take care of Benton's needs--to be the one to smooth his fevered brow, hold his face to her comforting breast...

Snapping back to the present, she continued, "Anyway, Ma considers Benton a part of the family and her feelings would be hurt if you didn't take some food with you." 

Becka nodded in understanding. She continued to place packages of frozen food in the box and was relieved when Frannie indicated the last package. "I can't begin to thank your family for...for everything." She indicated the box of food.

Frannie shrugged. "It's nothing, really. Ma's adopted you as well. It's Italian," she said, as if that explained everything.

Becka grinned with pleasure. The past five days with the Vecchio family had been a whirlwind indoctrination into all things Italian including the concept of 'family.' Initially overwhelmed, she'd quickly learned the 'ropes' and had found herself arguing and shouting along with everyone else over the dinner table. Surprised at the vociferous nature of the family meal, she soon recognized the underlying currents of love. She was flustered when Frannie hurled the first insult her way but quickly regained her footing and gave as well as she got. It still amazed her how quickly she and Frannie had hit it off--especially after both Benny's and Ray's warnings. There was something in Frannie's enthusiastic nature that meshed with her own and the two women had known within moments of meeting that she had met a kindred soul. 

Becka grasped her pack and lifted it, Frannie grabbed the box of food, and together they climbed the narrow stairway to Fraser's apartment. Becka returned the greetings of Ben's neighbors before opening the door to Ben's small abode. Frannie carried the food to the table and they quickly stored it in the refrigerator where it could be retrieved with little effort.

"Can I fix you some tea?" Becka asked.

"Nah," Frannie spoke around her gum. "It's a little warm for tea." She glanced around the apartment, noting the tiny air-conditioner in the window. "That's new, isn't it?"

Becka nodded her head as she dug through the freezer compartment. Pulling forth a canister of orange juice, she turned offering it to Frannie. "How about this?"

"You got some vodka? What am I saying? Of course you don't got any," Frannie spoke more to herself than to her friend. "Never mind, I'll be right back." She hurried out of the apartment.

Becka watched Frannie leave and shrugged her shoulders. She opened her backpack and removed her clothing. Everything was clean--a parting gift from Mrs. Vecchio. Becka smiled. Aside from Ray's obvious friendship, Ray's family certainly seemed intent on making sure Benny, and now she, was taken care of. Slipping her feet out of her shoes, she padded back into the kitchen area and made the orange juice. 

Ten minutes later, Frannie breezed back into the apartment clutching two different bags. One was from the local grocer's, the other from the local liquor store. Frozen limeade joined the orange juice and bottles of tequila, vodka, and peach schnapps appeared on the table. 

Becka stared at the alcohol then at Frannie. "Planning a party?"

"Nope, just you and me sharing a few drinks."

"A few?" Askance, Becka's eyebrow rose. "There's enough here for more than a few."

"Well, I like a little variety," Frannie said as she searched for another pitcher to make the limeade in.

"We'll have to drink the orange juice first before you can make the limeade," Becka volunteered as she removed two glasses from Ben's limited stock.

Frannie grinned mischievously. "No problem." Opening the bottle of peach schnapps, she poured some in the glasses then added the orange juice. "Ice?"

Intrigued by Frannie's concoction, Becka quickly retrieved some ice from the freezer compartment. "Ice."

"Now a little swirl and voila!" Frannie exclaimed and handed one of the mixed drinks to Becka.

Becka cautiously sipped the drink, her eyebrows reflecting her pleasant surprise. "What is this?"

"It's called a 'fuzzy navel'. I'm a sucker for fruity drinks." Frannie tossed hers back and began mixing another. She held out the bottle of schnapps. "You ready for a refill?"

Becka studied her glass, feeling the effects of the alcohol. "Not just yet, Frannie. I'm not used to drinking on an empty stomach."

"And I am?"

"I don't know, are you?"

"Nope, so let's open something and heat it up. Or we could order a pizza. I know this great little place that makes a broccoli in garlic butter sauce pizza. It's heavenly."

Becka arched an eyebrow. _'A broccoli pizza? How could that possibly be heavenly?'_ she wondered.

"Believe me! It's good," Frannie said as she whipped out her cellphone and dialed **Gina's Gourmet Pizza Parlor**. After making the call, she glanced around the apartment. "What does Benton do for entertainment?"

"He takes Dief for walks but mostly he reads."

"Reads?" Her mouth dropped open.

Becka nodded her head. "Benny has always been a great reader. Although some of the things he reads would put an insomniac to sleep."

Frannie laughed. "Well, then what should we do for entertainment? I can't see spending the night reading to each other." 

Before Becka could respond someone knocked on the door of the apartment. "It's a little early for the pizza to get here, isn't it?" she asked as she opened the door.

Mr. Mustafi nervously shifted from foot to foot. He stretched his neck trying to see around the door. "Has Constable Fraser come home yet?"

"No, Benny won't be released for another day or two," Becka answered.

"That's too bad. He really should take better care of himself."

"I couldn't agree more." When it became apparent that Mr. Mustafi had something more he wished to say, Becka gently prodded him, "Is there something I can do for you?"

"No, no, I just wondered if you wanted to borrow the TV again."

"No thank you, Mr. Mustafi. It doesn't have any sound."

"I had that fixed. The sound works good now."

"That's a great idea!" Frannie joined the conversation. "You get the TV and I'll go rent some movies. We can have a moviefest!" And before Becka could object, Frannie flew out of the apartment and disappeared.

"I guess I'd like to borrow the TV. Thank you, Mr. Mustafi."

"It's nothing. Your brother is a fine young man. If there's anything I can do to help..."

"There's nothing but thanks anyway." Becka smiled at Ben's neighbor and followed him to his apartment. She helped him wheel an elderly television set into Ben's apartment. As she bid goodbye, she said, "Mr. Mustafi, there is something you could do."

"What would that be?"

"Why don't you visit Benny in the hospital. I know he'd love to see you."

Mr. Mustafi brightened. "I'll do that. Yes, I will," he said as he returned to his own apartment.

The next knock at the door was the pizza delivery. Becka paid for the pizza and placed it in the oven for Frannie's return. The smell emanating from the box made her taste buds water. Unable to restrain herself, she removed the box from the oven and chose the smallest piece. Cautiously, she took a bite then another. Before she knew it, the slice of pizza was gone. She licked her fingers and reached for another piece. Realizing what she was doing, she slapped her hand and closed the box. Placing it back in the oven, she shook her head in amazement. _'Who would've thought that broccoli could be such a...'_ Becka sought for the appropriate word and grinned when she found it _, '...heavenly topping for a pizza not to mention the garlic butter sauce.'_ Frannie had better hurry if she wanted any of the pizza.

Frannie didn't bother to knock when she returned. She burst through the door carrying a VCR and several videos. 

"I rented a VCR 'cause I figured we'd need it." She set the machine on top of the TV and began poking around behind it. "Do you know anything about putting these things together? Does the out go to the out or the in?"

Becka took the coaxial cables from Frannie's hands and shooed her back toward the kitchen. "You fix us some more drinks and serve up the pizza and I'll fix this." She bent to her task and soon had the VCR hooked up to the TV. Digging through the videos she wasn't the least bit surprised by Frannie's choices--Kevin Costner in ** _Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves_** , Harrison Ford in **_The Last Crusade_** , Paul Gross in **_Aspen Extreme_** , Mel Gibson in **_Maverick_** , and Patrick Swayze in **_Ghost_**. 

"What can I say? They had a special--five movies, five days, five bucks." Frannie handed Becka a plate and a glass.

"I was thinking more of the selection. These are all romances--well, maybe not the Indiana Jones one. There's not an educational one in the lot."

"Robin Hood is historical, I think," Frannie offered.

"You know what I mean!"

"Yeah, I think I do but I'm not going to spend good pizza and alcohol on something I can watch on PBS. No way, girl. I'm gonna watch **hunks**!"

"Hunks?"

"You know--beefcake."

"Beefcake?" 

Frannie's eyes widened. "You know--broad chests, tight asses, legs of iron, buns of steel..."

"I get the picture, Frannie," Becka said then chuckled.

"Good then let's get started. I've got some serious drooling to do before this night is out."

Six hours, three movies, one broccoli in garlic butter sauce pizza, and an unknown number of mixed drinks later, Frannie turned to Becka and asked, "What's wrong with me?"

"What? What do you mean?" Becka fuzzily studied her friend. As far as she could tell there was nothing wrong with Frannie that a good night's sleep couldn't fix--not that that could help **her**. That Indiana Jones movie had struck a note in her. For some strange reason, her mind insisted on overlaying TJ's handsome face on Harrison Ford's. 

"I've tried everything. I've shamelessly thrown myself at him, I've played hard to get, I've even made up an imaginary beau to make him jealous, but nothing seems to work."

Becka sat up straighter pushing thoughts of TJ to the back of her mind. Clueless, she asked, "Whatever are you talking about, Frannie?"

Frannie choked on her next words. "Why can't I make Benton love me?" She idly fiddled with a lock of dark brown hair. "Why can't I make him love me as much as I love him?"

The fuzziness of Becka's mind sharpened as the words sunk in. Why couldn't her brother love Frannie? The answer was obvious to her but not to Frannie. Hating to be the one to spoil Frannie's illusions, she cleared her throat before speaking, "Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Yes, you're his sister. You'd know why."

"Frannie, believe me when I say that Benny really likes you and if it were possible he might eventually learn to love you."

The smile that spread across Frannie's face brought a beauty to her already classic features. Slowly the smile faded. " What do you mean? If it were possible?" 

"It's a long story, Frannie, but the reason why he doesn't love you is because he's already in love with someone else." Her voice was infinitely compassionate.

Close to tears, Frannie snapped, "It's that Mountie...that Cathy Madden, isn't it? I can't believe he still loves her even after he found out about her and Ray."

Surprised that Frannie would know such an intimate detail of Cat's relationship with Ray, she quickly answered, "No, Frannie, it isn't Cat...Cathy. Anyway, she's in love with some other man she met last winter."

Frannie ran her hands through her hair. "Then who is it? Is it that woman that almost killed him? That...that Victoria person?"

"No it's not Victoria. He never really loved her."

"Then who is it? Is it the Dragon Lady? Is it somebody I know? I couldn't live with that, if it was somebody I knew. Do you know what I mean?"

Becka nodded her head in agreement. "No, Frannie, you don't know her. She's someone Benny's known for a long time--long before he ever met Victoria, long before he came to Chicago."

"Then why didn't he marry her?"

"That's a long story, too, Frannie."

"I'm a good listener, Becka. If I'm going to have to lose him then I'd at least know a little bit about the woman who finally won him."

Becka bowed her head pondering the irony of the situation. Phil had already won Benny's love but he had foolishly ended their engagement. Would Phil win Ben again? Would the two of them ever be able to bury the past and get on with their lives? No one knew for sure and Becka wasn't taking any bets. "It's a story that hasn't ended yet, Frannie, and even I don't know how it will end. I just hope Benny finds what he's looking for."

"And he can't find it with me?" The plea was soft-spoken but sincere.

"If he could ever forget her he might be able to find love somewhere else but until then..."

"Until then he can't see what's right beneath his nose." Frannie patted her chest.

"Pretty much."

Sighing deeply, Frannie lowered her voice and whispered, "Okay, that explains some of it. Tell me about this woman from Benton's past." It was hard to say that with jealousy rearing its ugly head.

Becka told Frannie the bare bones of the story of Ben's relationship with Phil. She told of how Cat had tried to get them together and had failed. "Ben could never see that he needs to make the first move. I don't know if he ever will."

Frannie leaned back against the bed. "He really does love her, doesn't he?" Becka nodded her head. "And she loves him?" Again Becka nodded her head. "He's carried the torch for her for over 12 years, how romantic can you get?"

"I don't know if I'd call it romantic--stupid comes to mind. But there it is. I'm sorry, Frannie, but Benny's heart is elsewhere."

Frannie studied her fingers mentally noting that she needed to redo her nail polish. It was hard to give up a dream she'd held for almost three years. Maybe Benton would come to his senses about this woman from his past. Maybe if he met her again he'd realize just how wrong she was for him--that too much time had passed and he should finally let her memory go. Maybe then he'd realize what was right under his nose. Maybe then he'd finally turn to her. She closed her eyes, imagining how she could comfort him and help him forget this lost love of his. 

The dreamy smile that crept across her face slowly faded as she thought over what Becka had said. According to her, this woman from Benton's past was the 'love of his life'; the woman that haunted his dreams; the woman that completed him. How could she hope to compete with this ghost from his past? If he did get back with this woman there would be no place for Francesca Vecchio in his heart. With a sinking feeling, Frannie realized the truth--there **was** no place for her in his heart except as Ray's sister. 

Shaking herself as if to rid herself of fantasies outgrown, Frannie sighed then said, "That's okay, Becka. I guess I knew all along that it would be like this. I couldn't help but try. It's too bad really..." Frannie's voice faded into another sigh.

"What's too bad?" Becka asked curiosity aroused.

"Why are all the good men taken especially the good-looking Mountie types?"

A twinkle entered Becka's eyes and she grinned mischievously at her friend. "Oh, I wouldn't say that exactly."

"You wouldn't?" Frannie turned questioning eyes on Becka.

"No, I know of two perfectly good specimens of _'the good-looking Mountie type'_." The grin widened on Becka's face.

"You do? Who? Where?"

"Constables Turnbull and Cooper."

"Turnbull and Cooper? I'd forgotten that there were other Mounties at the consulate."

Becka leaned back on her elbows. "I guess you just didn't see them because you were focused on Benny."

"Yeah, real tunnel-vision." Frannie's mind began to race. There were other Mounties available. Glancing at Becka, she asked, "Good-looking?"

"Very. Frankly, Frannie, if I were you I'd investigate Renfield Turnbull."

"Renfield? Turnbull? Isn't he a little strange?"

"I don't know what you consider strange, Frannie. He does like country/western music and curling. He's not afraid of lending a hand when it comes to housework and he's a gourmet cook. And..." Becka paused waiting for Frannie to take the bait.

"And what?" 

"He's quite a sportsman. Under that uniform, he's got a body to drool over. If you're seriously interested in the good-looking, sexy Mountie-type then Ren is the man for you."

"But isn't he...I mean the times I've seen him he seemed to be um..." How could she diplomatically ask if Turnbull had a screw loose or what? 

Knowing all too well to what Frannie was alluding; Becka smiled a secretive smile and leaned closer to the other woman. In a whisper, she said, "Ren's a little skittish, a little shy, a little too eager to please...sometimes he ends up tripping over his own feet. He needs someone who can match his energy level **and** he's just the kind of guy to make a girl feel special."

"Special?" Ooh, a shy, good-looking, sexy Mountie who could cook and didn't mind helping with the housework? What more could a girl ask for?

Becka smiled to herself and reached for another video. "Shall we watch another one or go to bed?" They'd decided hours earlier that Frannie would spend the night with Becka. After the 'fuzzy navels', the screwdrivers, and the margaritas, she was in no shape to drive home. Becka had already claimed Ben's bedroll, which left the bed to Frannie.

Frannie nodded her head and rose a bit unsteadily to her feet. "Let's watch another one. I'll fix us something more to drink."

"You do that, Frannie." Becka settled back against the side of the bed glad that she'd been able to steer Frannie away from heartbreak with Ben and towards someone who would definitely appreciate her special outlook on life. Turnbull would never know what hit him.

* * *

"I bet you're ready to get out of here," Becka said as she smiled at her brother.

"That's a safe bet, Becka. You know how I feel about hospitals." Ben carefully stretched his arms above his head. That morning Dr. McKenzie had pronounced his back well enough to leave the traction unit. Just the luxury of being able to sit up in his bed brought a smile to his lips.

"Well, at least I will have a couple of days left of my leave after you get out. What should we do?"

"I haven't thought about it, Becka. Frankly, I'm a little amazed that the Inspector ordered me to take some time off to recuperate." Ben scratched an itch that had been unreachable for several days.

"Especially considering her past history with our family," Becka added. 

Ben grunted noncommittally. "Ray thinks I should take a few days and visit Cat."

"That's sounds like a great idea, Benny. I know Cat would love to see you."

"That's what she says in her letter." Ben motioned toward the letter on the hospital table.

"Oh, what did she have to say?" Becka rose from her chair and approached the small table. Asking with her eyes, she opened it and pulled the short missive from the envelope. She glanced at the two photos and replaced them in the envelope.

"She said that she'd skin me alive if I didn't come and spend some time with her while I recover."

"That sounds like Cat. So, are you going to go?" Becka replaced the note in the envelope and laid it back down on the table.

"Do I have any choice?" he asked as he stared out the window at the pigeons.

"Of course you do. You can stay here and have her come down here and drag you back or you can go quietly." Becka laughed softly at the image that thought brought to mind.

Ben chuckled before answering, "That's not much of a choice."

"I'm afraid that's all you're likely to get." Becka perched on the side of his bed. Taking one of Ben's hands in hers, she said, "Well, at least one good thing has come out of my visit with you."

"And what would that be?"

"I've decided to give the RCMP one more chance. I've accepted one of the postings I've been offered and I'll see if being a Mountie is what I really want to do with the rest of my life."

Ben squeezed her hand. "I think that's a wise decision. How did you decide which posting you'll accept?"

"It was easy, really. None of the postings was to a large urban area where my particular skills are most useful."

"Then you should choose your posting based on where you will feel most comfortable."

"That's what I thought you'd say and that really left me with only one choice--Kitimat. I still remember all the things we did together when we lived there."

"And Kitimat isn't that far from Nakinuk and Eric's family."

"I know. It will be good to see Patty and Sarah again. What's so amusing?"

Ben chuckled recalling the recent visit of Eric and his family to his small apartment. "Nothing, I just think you and the girls will have a great time together. They seem to know where all the best shopping is."

"And, if I recall, Eric is still single."

"What?"

Becka grinned. "I just wanted to see what your reaction would be." Eric was nice but Becka had no romantic notions about the handsome Tsimshian. A brief image of TJ's smiling countenance flashed across her thoughts and she reluctantly banished it from consideration. TJ was the one man she could never consider no matter how attractive that thought might be. There was no way she would hurt her brother like that. No, best to put those thoughts away and not dwell on them. They could only lead to unfulfilled desires and regrets.

"Why so pensive?" Ben asked. He'd watched the changing expressions on Becka's face and was curious as to what would cause her eyes to take on that wistful far-away look.

Not wanting Ben to know the real reason behind her conflicting thoughts, she temporized, "I was just thinking that we don't have that much time left of my visit. I'm going to miss you after I leave."

"I'll miss you, too, Becka, but you haven't left yet. There's still plenty of time to spend with each other."

"You're right as usual, Benny, but it's getting late and I need to go. You do need to get your rest and I need to prepare for your homecoming tomorrow."

"What have you got planned?" Ben asked hoping against hope that she hadn't done something extravagant.

"I'm going to get your prescriptions filled, bake you some more cookies, and hire a stripper to greet you at the door."

Ben's eyes widened and he gasped in horror, "I hope not!"

Becka clutched her sides as she laughed. "Oh, Benny, if you could only see your face." She laughed again. "You know I would never do something like that but it was worth it just to see your reaction." Wiping tears from her eyes, she bent and placed a kiss on Ben's forehead. "You take care of yourself, big brother."

Ben cupped Becka's cheek with his right hand. "You do the same, little sister."

Becka smiled gently at her brother then made her farewells. It would be good to have him back at home. Turning to the wolf stretched out in the middle of the floor, she called, "Come on, Dief, let's go home." 

Dief thumped his tail on the floor and lifted his head but made no move to follow her. As long as Alpha Male was in this building of strange smells, he would remain here by his side.

"Honestly, Benny, that wolf is spoiled rotten."

"Tell me about it. He loves it here. The staff loves him. He even eats better than I do. Ingrate!" Becka laughed and blew a kiss then left.

* * *

"I won't be gone long, Phil."

"I know, Martin, and I'm so proud of what you are doing. Not many people would do what you do." The pride and love she had for this man shone in her words. Martin was on his way to Southeast Asia to participate in several free medical clinics. Although his skills as an orthopedic surgeon were not needed frequently, his skills as a doctor and surgeon were. Phil loved his commitment to helping people in anyway he could.

"I hate being away from you for this long, Phil." Martin dropped his bag and drew her into his arms.

"It's only for a month. We can both last a month. We managed just fine before we met each other." Phil smiled up into Martin's darkly handsome face. Recalling a time long past when she'd waited for Ben's return, she said to herself, almost as an afterthought, "Patience and I are old friends."

"True, but those days seem like they're part of another life--another existence. Do you realize just how important you are to me?" Martin asked, anxious to remove that hint of pain in her voice.

"I think I can guess but it's always nice to hear you say so," Phil's husky voice brushed his cheek.

"I love you, Phil," Martin whispered before gently pressing his lips against hers.

Phil chuckled slightly. "Just you remember that when you meet up with those other doctors and nurses. I don't want to lose you to someone you've met over an unconscious body."

Martin's rich throaty laugh joined Phil's. "I would never do that, Phil. Believe me, when I'm working over a patient, that's the last thing I have on my mind."

"Just you keep it that way, Martin. I don't want to lose another man to someone he's met through his job." The words were out of her mouth before Phil realized she'd said them.

Martin hugged her closer. He could well understand Phil's fears, but that wouldn't happen with him. He knew a good thing when he had it and he wasn't about to lose her because of a wandering eye. Still, the way she trembled in his arms alarmed him. Her fears were real. Smiling to himself, he knew what he could do to allay those fears.

Martin smoothed the hair back out of Phil's eyes. She was so unlike anyone he'd dated before--independent, intelligent, not exactly beautiful but attractive nonetheless. She touched him like no other woman had. He just wished she could let go of that man from her past and love him. He knew she cared for him, but he could see the occasional far away look in her eye, the voice that trailed off, and the glimpses of buried pain in her eyes. He wanted to remove that pain from her heart. But would she let him?

Cupping her face in his hands, he gently touched his lips to hers, then slid his arms around her body pulling her close to him. He breathed deeply of the lilac scent of her hair, and whispered in her ear, "This is not where I wanted to ask you this, but I can't wait any longer. Philippe McKenzie, will you marry me?"

Why did her mind insist on overlaying Ben's voice onto Martin's? She could clearly hear Ben asking her the same question all those years ago. But this was today, here and now, and Ben Fraser was gone from her life. He would never come back to her. Martin was here. Martin loved her and she loved him. Yes, she would marry him. She parted her lips to give him an answer but Martin's lips descending on hers stilled her voice.

"Don't give me an answer just yet, Phil. This isn't the right place for that." His arm swept out indicating the milling hordes of people waiting for their planes. The arm continued its sweep and returned to circle Phil's shoulders. "When I get back, we'll talk about this again."

Phil nodded her head, choked by happiness. "I love you, Martin," was whispered against his ear as Phil hugged him one last time. "Be careful and come back to me safely."

"Nothing can keep me from you, Phil. You should know that by now." Martin hugged Phil's slender form, inhaled the scent of lilacs from her hair, and then released her. He turned quickly and walked purposefully across the waiting area and headed down the walkway to his plane. He turned once and waved at Phil. He watched her blow a kiss to him and he smiled. He knew what her answer would be. He had to be the happiest man on earth. 

* * *

"Here, Benny, it's time to take your medicine." Becka stepped into the small bathroom and retrieved the vial of Demerol. Returning to the kitchen area, she filled a glass with water and handed both to Ben who sat at the table.

Normally Ben would have refused the pain medication but the activity surrounding his release from the hospital and his homecoming had worn on him. He would never tell anyone but he was relieved when Ray had finally gone home. It was increasingly hard to put on an indifferent face in front of him but now with Becka the only witness, he let some of the strain and pain creep into his face. He ached all over and his ribs hurt abominably. The rib belt helped a bit but each movement he made reminded him of his injuries. And his back...a white-hot poker would be welcome relief from the pain he'd felt over the past week or so. Accepting the glass and the tablet, he took it with a swallow of water. 

"Thanks, Becka. I needed that." Even his voice sounded tired.

"I know, Benny, I could tell. Why don't you lie down and let the medicine take effect. You'll feel better if you do. Here let me help you," she said as Ben placed his hands on the table and levered himself to his feet.

He motioned her away with his left hand. "I'm all right, Becka, it's just the getting to my feet that hurts. Once I'm up I can handle it."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure but thanks for offering." The smile on his face was echoed in his voice.

"Anytime, Benny, anytime." Becka watched as Ben moved slowly over to the bed and sat on the side of it. She hurried over and helped him lift his feet onto the bed. Not taking 'no' for an answer, she untied his boots and removed them.

"Thanks," Ben whispered, lay back, and closed his eyes.

Becka stood over him for a few moments. When she was satisfied that she had done all that she could for him, she returned to the kitchen area, turned on the small radio, and began cleaning the mess left from the dinner she'd prepared for Ray and them. Humming softly to the music on the radio, she cleared the table then washed the dishes. After wiping the cabinets and table clean, she reached for a book meaning to read it while Ben rested. A soft laugh followed by a groan drew her to the bed. Ben's eyes were open and he rocked his head back and forth while his eyes roamed all around.

"Benny, are you all right?" she asked as she sat on the side of the bed and reached for one of his hands.

"Becka, I'm fine...just great. I feel like my head is as light as a cloud and could float away at any moment. Could you catch it for me?" he asked then giggled. 

Becka's eyes widened with concern. It looked like Benny was riding on narcotic high. "Come on, Benny, let's get you up and see if we can walk this off."

"Walk what off? My head?" Ben came loosely upright then giggled once more.

"Oh, brother!" Becka stared at the silly grin on Ben's face. He was definitely high. "Come on, Benny, let's get up."

"Oh, all right, but you will watch out for my head, won't you?" Ben's concern was comical but Becka refrained from laughing at him.

"Of course, I will, Benny. If we see your head we'll catch it and put it back where it belongs." 

"Thank you kindly," Ben said as he finally managed to get to his feet.

Becka draped one of his arms over her shoulders and began walking him about the tiny apartment. "Talk to me, Benny. It will help counteract the effects of the medicine."

"Okay, what should we talk about? Have you found my head yet?"

"No, not yet, Benny. Don't worry, we'll find it." She headed him toward the window passing by the bricked-in fireplace. Spotting the potted plant sitting on the mantel, she said, "Tell me about your plant. Where did you get it? Why do you have it?"

"My plant? Oh, that plant." Ben reached out a hand and brushed it across its leaves. The subtle fragrance of lavender wafted to them as he drew his hand back and brought it to his nose. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and said, "I planted the first lavender bush in Cat's garden as a reminder of Phil. It's her fragrance and I'll always associate it with her."

__

'Oh no!' Becka thought. Phil McKenzie was the one subject she didn't think Ben was up to discussing. Steering him away from the fireplace, she guided him to the window. The night sky blazed brighter than she'd seen it since coming to Chicago. Maybe that would be a safe topic. "Tell me about what you see outside."

Ben gazed out the window, his eyes drawn to the star-studded night sky. "I see Castor and Pollux in the constellation of Gemini. I'm Castor and Phil is Pollux. I remember telling her that we would always be together just like those stars are together."

Becka's mouth dropped open. Wasn't there something that didn't remind Ben of his lost love? Turning him back around she maneuvered him past the bed where she noticed their father's footlocker. Surely that would be a safe subject. "Tell me about Dad's footlocker. What all do you keep in there besides what I've already seen."

"Have you found my head? I definitely feel it missing. I wonder where it is. Do you know?" Ben giggled and swayed slightly.

"Don't worry, Benny, I said we'll find your head. As soon as the effects of the Demerol subside, we'll find it. Now, tell me about the footlocker."

"Dad's footlocker? What do I keep in there? Let's see now..." Ben paused for a moment then his eyes lit up. "I know what I keep in there. I have a shoebox filled with my memories of Phil. I have her pictures and letters and some flowers and a book she gave me. I even have some rocks. Have you seen my rocks?"

"No I haven't, Benny. You can show them to me some other time." What was it with her brother? Why did everything she directed his attention to remind him of Phil? Maybe his subconscious mind was expressing his hidden thoughts and desires. Maybe this was something he needed to do. _'Let's try one more thing,'_ she thought, _'just to be sure.'_ She glanced around the room searching for something to ask about. She finally settled on the dreamcatcher. "Tell me about your dreamcatcher, Benny."

"My dreamcatcher?" Ben shook his head before gazing at the head of his bed where the dreamcatcher hung. "It was a gift from Cat. She had it specially made for me. She said that the stones were selected with me in mind and that small bag held a love spell..." Ben's voice trailed off. 

"What is it, Benny?" The sudden cessation of Ben's chatter brought her face around to where she could study his.

"I think I've found my head, Becka. I feel like...what happened?" Ben ran a hand through his already disheveled hair.

"You were flying high on the narcotic in your pain medication."

"That explains the strange sensations I am experiencing."

"Let's walk some more to finish clearing your thoughts."

"That sounds like a good idea, Becka. Thank you for taking care of me and putting up with my 'flights of fantasy'."

"Is that what you call them?" Becka grinned.

"I don't know what else to call them except possibly hallucinations or figments of my imagination."

"Actually, I think they were more along the lines of some of your deepest, hidden thoughts coming to the surface."

Ben stared down at his sister. What did she mean by that? Thinking back on what they had talked about as they moved about the apartment he realized what she was alluding to or rather who--Phil. "I don't know what came over me, Becka, it just seemed like everything you mentioned reminded me in some way of her." Even now he wouldn't mention her name. If he did then he'd have to admit to his continued concern for her. 

"She has a name, Benny. Ignoring that fact won't make her go away."

Had she read his mind? How did she know that this was his way of putting Phil back in his past where she belonged? "I'm not sure what you mean, Becka. I can't very well help it if some of the things I have remind me of her."

"You did it again, Benny. She has a name. Why can't you say it?" She knew she was pushing him past the point where she'd stopped before. Why was she doing this? Did her recent visit with TJ and Phil factor into her desire for her brother to confront his feelings? Whatever the reason, she knew she would press the point until Ben finally agreed to do something about the rift between Phil and him.

Removing his arm from her shoulders, Ben slowly strode across the room and gently lowered himself onto the sofa. Only then did he answer Becka's question. "I know she has a name, Becka, and I can say it if I want to. I just don't. Can't you leave it at that?"

"No, I can't, Benny. What is it you're afraid of? Are you afraid that by saying her name her ghost will begin to haunt you?"

"No, of course not!" Little did Becka know that Phil's ghost already haunted him but did she need to know that? 

"Then I don't understand you, Benny. If you don't love her anymore, why can't you put her behind you and move on?"

Ben buried his face in his hands. He didn't want to have this conversation but he knew that Becka wouldn't let it rest. "I don't know, Becka. Lord knows I've tried. I just can't seem to forget her."

"Do you really want to?"

"Yes, I do. I decided that I'm destined to live a solitary life..."

"I don't believe that for a minute and I don't think you do either." Becka interrupted Ben's statement.

"It's better than longing for something I can't have."

"Benny, after all this time you're still not waiting for your soul mate, are you?" Becka asked with more than a touch of impatience.

"No, I stopped waiting years ago. Now..." he tilted his head and stared back into his past, "...now, I simply exist."

"You call this existing?"

"It's the best I can do, Becka," the tiredness made his voice sound hollow.

"You're wrong, Ben. You could have so much more if you'd just reach out and take it. Call her, Ben. Call her before it's too late...for both of you." _'Before she marries Martin.'_

She was serious. He could tell. She never called him Ben unless it was serious. But that didn't mean she understood the situation. "I can't call her."

"Why not? Dammit, Benny, don't let your stubborn pride stand in your way. A woman doesn't wait for things she can't have. Women are more practical than that."

Ben arched an eyebrow. "Practical?"

Becka's hair bobbed with her short nod of agreement before offering Ben a sober smile. "Women have always been the practical ones. We're realists. When we love and lose, we hurt, we wallow in self-pity, we cry, or we rage at everything. Then we pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and go on with the business of living because that's what we have to do."

"And men?"

"Men are idealistic...romantic. When a man falls in love--deeply in love--then loses her, he never forgets. He holds onto her memory. No matter where he is or how long it's been, the memory of her love is always there. No matter how often he may seek pleasure with someone else or simply satisfy his needs, in his heart, he stays true to the woman he lost."

Ben bowed his head over his hands not surprised to feel the wetness of the tears streaking down his face. . Burying his face in his hands, he listened to the music softly playing on the radio. He recognized the song as the one that had haunted his thoughts since hearing it that night in the hospital. An invisible hand squeezed his heart as the words were branded on his mind.

**__**

Never wonder what I'll feel as living shuffles by  
You don't have to ask me and I need not reply  
Every moment of my life from now until I die  
I will think or dream of you and fail to understand  
How a perfect love can be confounded out of hand

In a voice choked with emotion, he whispered, "How did you get to be so wise?"

Becka slid onto the floor at his feet and wrapped her arms around Ben. "I didn't. I just happen to know you." She laid her cheek against the softness of his curly hair, tenderly wiping away the dampness on his cheeks.

After a moment of silent soul searching, Ben nodded reluctantly. "I guess you do...even better than I do."

"I don't think so, Benny. You just got lost. It's time you found your way home."

"Home?" Ben moved slightly, pulling Becka up to sit beside him. "How?"

"Call her, Benny."

* * *

Morning light stole across the bare floor of the small apartment. Becka stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Yawning widely, she sat up and stretched her arms over her head. A soft woof drew her attention and she put a finger to her lips. Diefenbaker sat at the foot of her bedroll, his tail thumping on the floor.

"Let me put some clothes on and we'll go for a quick walk," she whispered. She stood, stretching as she did so. Glancing at Ben, she was thankful that he still slept. After last night's experience with his pain medication, she was afraid he wouldn't be able to sleep but he'd dozed off almost as soon as his head hit his pillow.

Pulling a pair of shorts on, she laced her shoes and tucked the ends of her T-shirt into the shorts. "Let's go, Dief," she whispered as she motioned toward the door. 

Dief checked Alpha Male before following her out of the apartment. A quick trip to the tiny park down the street, a stop at a bakery for fresh cinnamon rolls, and they were back in the apartment within 15 minutes.

Becka breathed a sigh of relief when they returned. Ben was still asleep. She put a pot of water on to boil and set the tea out ready for when the water was hot. She checked her watch. It was still early. Frannie wouldn't be by for her until 10:30 to take her to the airport to catch her plane to Kitimat. There was still plenty of time to pack her things and to pack Benny's as well. His plane didn't leave until 4:30 and Ray had promised to take him to the airport. He'd offered to take her but she refused saying that Frannie had already volunteered. Ray had given her the strangest look and mumbled something unintelligible about Frannie and Mounties.

"Good morning."

Becka spun around in surprise. Ben slowly eased himself up until he was sitting upright. "Benny, you surprised me. No, don't get up, I can do whatever it is you need..."

Ben interrupted her. "Becka, unless you can urinate for me I suggest you let me do this myself." Blushing a beet-red, Becka nodded her agreement but stepped forward to help him rise from the bed. "I'm fine now, I can make it the rest of the way by myself." Ben fought the urge to smile. 

Fortunately, the teakettle chose that moment to whistle and Becka gratefully scurried off to make tea. When Ben came out of the small bath, two places had been set at the small table and Becka motioned for him to be seated.

"Cinnamon rolls? Where did these come from?" Ben asked as he bit into one of the rolls.

"I bought them after taking Dief for a walk," Becka said and smiled quietly at the man across from her.

Ben smiled back and nodded his head toward Becka's pack. "I see you've already done some packing. Anxious to get away?"

"Of course not, Benny. I wish I didn't have to go, but..."

"...but duty calls," Ben finished for her.

"Duty calls," Becka echoed, for some reason that didn't seem enough any more. Something was lacking and she was fearful of discovering just what that was.

Draining the last sip of her tea, Becka rose and carried the few dishes they'd used to the sink and quickly washed them. "No, don't get up, Benny. I can handle this by myself. You just finish your tea."

Ben grinned wryly before saying, "I suppose you plan on packing my bag as well?"

"Of course!" Becka cheekily admitted. "You can tell me what to pack and you'll let Ray carry your bag for you. Promise."

"But..."

"No, Benny, I don't want you to hurt yourself again. You'll let Ray carry your pack for you or I'll have Frannie drive you to the airport."

"Frannie?"

"Yes, you know she has quite a crush on you." Becka turned back to the sink to hide the laughter in her eyes. Even though the threat of Frannie was gone, Ben didn't need to know that just yet. Not when it might help get her way.

"Oh, all right. I'll let Ray carry my pack but only because you asked me to." Ben reluctantly gave in--anything to prevent having to deal with Francesca Vecchio.

She chuckled in spite of herself. "I think you'd agree to anything to avoid Frannie."

"You haven't been on the receiving end of her attentions. If you had, you would be singing a different song," Ben said, his voice lowering dramatically.

"Does that explain the way she acted when I said she could sleep in your bed?" she asked innocently.

"She what?" Ben jerked upright and gasped with discomfort.

"Benny, Benny, settle down. I was just kidding."

"Then Francesca did not sleep in my bed?" Ben hoped against hope.

"Oh, she slept there but I don't think she remember much about it." Frannie had barely climbed into the bed before she was asleep--a victim of the alcohol she'd consumed. "She was a little bit on the inebriated side."

"She was drunk?"

"Stinking drunk."

"What?"

"We had a pizza and watched movies, and had a few drinks." Becka watched the changing expressions on Ben's face. "We had a good talk about things."

"Things? What kind of things?"

"Girl things, Benny, and that's all I'm going to say." Becka would not betray the confidences Frannie had shared with her. Let her brother figure them out on his own. "Now, I'm going to finish packing my bag then I'll start on yours. Okay?"

Ben nodded his head. "Okay."

Becka gathered the last of her things together and stuffed them in her bag. The last thing she picked up was a book that Frannie had given her. She wasn't much on reading romances but Frannie had insisted saying that she'd enjoy the plot once she got into it. **_Whispering Pines_** by Cassandra Hope--she'd give it a try on the flight to Kitimat. 

As she placed the book beside her pack, she noticed the brochures that she'd stuffed between its pages. Drawing them forth, an idea began to form in her mind. She held the brochures out to her brother. "Here, Benny, I picked these up last week. You should look over them." 

Ben took the brochures and leafed through them. Turning puzzled eyes to Becka, he asked, "Why?"

"Because I think you need a vacation."

"I'm spending a week with Cat, Becka."

"I know that, Benny, but that's not the kind of vacation you need. I think you need to get away from Chicago, from your job, from your family, and do something that will clear away all the cobwebs in your mind. Go climb a mountain or hike the wilderness or beach comb on some deserted island. Go do something you don't normally do."

"Actually, I've been thinking about finishing Dad's cabin," Ben suggested.

Becka quickly voiced her opinion. "No! Benny, you can't do that. You might injure your back again. No, you need a vacation that doesn't involve manual labor. So don't even think about going up to the cabin."

"I don't think..."

"That's right. You don't think." Becka stood over Ben's seated form, hands on hips. "Benny, you need a vacation. Just like Cat needed a vacation, just like I needed a vacation. Think about it, Benny, you've got plenty of leave coming to you. Use it."

Ben glanced down at the brochures in his hand. A photo of the Grand Canyon stared back up at him. Raising his eyes to Becka, he admitted, "Lately, I **have** been thinking about a vacation. Maybe I will. I'll think about it while I'm visiting Cat."

"You do that, Benny, and I highly recommend this place." She tapped the brochure in his hand.

"The Grand Canyon?" 

"No, this company--BakTrak. Their offices are only a couple of blocks from the consulate. Believe me, Benny, if you visit their offices you get more than you bargained for." It was so easy--just get Ben to visit Baktrak and he'd run into Phil. Becka couldn't ask for a better plan.

Ben sighed. "I'll think about it, Becka. I promise."

"Good. Now let's get you packed." Becka placed the jeans and flannel shirts in the bottom of the pack then headed toward the small dresser.

"I'll get those, Becka," Ben began to rise from his chair.

"Nonsense, Benny, you stay right there. It's not as if I haven't seen men's underwear before. You forget that I was the only girl in our family. I saw yours and dad's boxers every time I had to do the laundry." More than that, Ben didn't need to know. Becka opened a drawer and pulled out several pairs of Ben's boxers. 

Holding one up, she shook it slightly then glanced at her brother. "What did you do to these poor things? They look like they could sit up and beg by themselves."

"I always starch my boxers."

"Starch? Isn't that a little rough?" Becka winced at the though of starched underwear next to her delicate skin.

"I've gotten use to it. It makes them easier to iron."

"Iron? You've got to be kidding. I don't know anybody who irons his underwear. I never ironed them for you or dad and I know Grandmother didn't either." Becka caught herself wondering what Cat or even Phil thought about Ben's starched boxers.

"It's the only way I know to get rid of the wrinkles," Ben said with some exasperation.

"Oh, Benny, you wouldn't have wrinkles if you didn't starch the shit out of them."

Scandalized, Ben said, "Becka!"

"Well, it's true. Just look at this poor thing. I don't believe I've seen stiffer boxers on or off of a man. Yours has to be the stiffest I've ever seen..."

"Becka!"

The shocked tone in Ben's voice brought her tirade to a halt. Glancing at Ben, she noticed the tale-tell rosy hue of his cheeks. Now what in the world was that all about? 

"I don't think it's appropriate for us to discuss how stiff my um...my body...my boxers, I mean...um..." Ben stammered to a halt.

"I'm sorry, Benny, it's just that I um...you um..." Becka dissolved in a fit of giggles. 

Ben rose from his chair and approached Becka who had collapsed onto the sofa. He took the article of clothing in question and stowed it in his pack. Sighing heavily, he removed several more pairs of boxers from the drawer and placed them in the pack as well.

"I can finish the rest of it, Benny, as long as there isn't anything else like this..." her voice edged upward in a question. "I mean, you don't starch your longjohns, too, do you?"

"No, Becka, I don't."

"Good." Becka finished packing Ben's pack, placing his medications in his toiletry bag and placing it in last. "I think that does it, unless you can think of anything else?"

"That should do me just fine, Becka. Thank you kindly."

"You're most kindly welcome, Benny."

A knocking at the door interrupted them. Becka opened it to find Frannie on the other side. Inviting the other woman into the apartment, she watched Frannie's reaction to Ben. 

Frannie stared longingly at Ben then sighed and whispered to herself, "It's a crying shame. That's what it is." Turning to Becka, she glanced at her watch. "You ready to go? We can make it to the airport in plenty of time if we leave now." She reached for Becka's pack. "Here, I'll take that so you can make your good-byes." She left the apartment as quickly as she'd entered it.

Biting her lip, Becka suddenly felt a heaviness settle in her chest. Kneeling in front of Dief, she threw her arms around the wolf and hugged him. "You take care of Benny, don't eat too much junk food, and I love you." Diefenbaker whined in return. 

Becka slowly stood and approached her brother. "Benny, I don't want to go. I don't want to leave you."

Ben gently took her in his arms. "I know, Becka. I don't want you to go either but we'll manage. We've always managed."

Becka nodded her head. "I know, Ben. It just gets harder and harder to say good-bye." She raised her face to his. "Please promise me you'll take care of yourself."

Ben smoothed the hair back out of her face and nodded his head. "I promise. Now you promise me the same thing. Don't **you** do anything foolish either."

"I promise, Benny. There's a couple of other things I want you to promise me."

Sighing deeply, Ben let the corners of his mouth curve upward. "What things?"

"I want you to promise me that you'll get yourself a phone. I want to be able to call you whenever and wherever I want."

"I'll think about it."

"Secondly, I want you to promise me that you'll take a vacation."

"I've already said that I'll think about that."

"No, Benny, I mean it. I really think you need to get away from your job and all of this." She waved her hand encompassing his apartment and his life.

Ben nodded his head. "I promise you that I'll give it serious consideration."

"I guess that's the best I can hope for." Ben nodded his head once more. "Okay, the last thing I want you to promise me is give her a call."

Ben's head shot up. "Give who a call?"

"You know who I mean. Call Phil and talk to her. You can get her number from Cat or one of her brothers. Just call her."

Ben rested his cheek on top of Becka's head. "I can't, Becka. You know I can't."

"I don't know anything of the sort. All I know is that you will never be able to rid yourself of her ghost if you don't confront her and clear up this mess between you. For once in your life don't be so selfish. Call her."

"I'll think about it."

"Do that, Benny, but don't think too long. If there's any chance at all for you with her don't let it slip by." Becka pulled away from Ben just far enough to be able to see into his face. "I love you, big brother, and I want you to be happy and this silly idea of yours about living a solitary life is nothing more than a crock of shit and you know it. Call her."

"Oh, Becka, I wish it were that simple."

"It is, Benny, it is. I've got to go now. Frannie will be wondering what's keeping me." She wrapped her arms around him and hugged tightly not letting go until he gasped in discomfort. "I'm sorry, Benny."

"I'm not, Becka," Ben whispered as he kissed her forehead and hugged her in return. "Now I have a few things that I want you to promise **me**."

Becka smiled up at her brother. "I'll think about it," she parroted.

Ben groaned and shook his head. "First I wanted to offer you some advice. I don't know if Dad ever shared these bits of wisdom with you but..."

Becka interrupted, "Are you going to tell me to pin my wallet to my underwear?"

"No, silly, I was thinking more about _'never follow a man over a cliff'_ but I've forgotten the second one. Sure wish I could remember it." Ben's voice took on a faraway tone.

"I think it was _'never chase a bear into a corner'_." Becka supplied.

Ben's eyes lit with satisfaction. " **That's** it! _'Never chase a bear into a corner'_. I can't believe that I forgot it. Thank you for reminding me."

"You're more than welcome, Benny. Now what was it you wanted me to promise? Not that I said I would promise you but I'll think about it."

The corners of Ben's mouth turned up slightly. "I want you to tell Eric..."

Becka interrupted Ben once more, "I'll tell him, Benny. Don't worry about that. I haven't forgotten what you told me to tell him. Now what else?"

"Give your new position a chance, Becka. You can't help but do an exemplary job there in Kitimat. I know you; you're not capable of doing less. Dad would be very proud of you just as I am." Ben paused and smoothed the hair out of Becka's upturned face. He lowered his voice and said, "Don't make any decisions on the spur of the moment. I know that you will find what you're looking for out there somewhere. As Cat has told me more times than I care to remember, you just have to be patient."

"It's hard to be patient, Benny. I keep asking myself _'how long do I have to wait'?_ "

"I know the feeling, Becka." He remained quiet for a moment then said, "Okay, I promise to get a phone."

Becka smiled up into her brother's face and said, "Thank you."

"I love you, Becka." Ben hugged her once more, ignoring the pain the tight embrace caused.

"I love you, too, Benny." Becka slid from Ben's embrace gulping hard as hot tears slipped down her face. "Good-bye, Benny," she said in a tear-smothered voice then turned and ran from the apartment.

Ben stared at the retreating figure of his sister feeling his own tears choking him.

**__**

Is it written in the stars  
Are we paying for some crime  
Is that all that we are good for  
Just a stretch of mortal time

Is this God's experiment  
In which we have no say  
In which we're given paradise  
But only for a day

* * *

Copyright July 1999 by Cassandra Hope

Comments are welcome at 

durango@ionet.net

 

Nothing Lasts Forever

(Book 2 of the Ben and Phil Saga)

  1. Nothing Lasts Forever
  2. Of Second Chances by Carol Trendall
  3. Winter is Cold in America by Carol Trendall
  4. Lavender Memories
  5. Distractions by Carol Trendall
  6. No Aphrodisiac by Carol Trendall
  7. Life's Insanity by Carol Trendall
  8. Standing on the Edge by Carol Trendall
  9. Of Past Regrets and Future Fears by Carol Trendall
  10. A Summoning of Things Past
  11. Three Parts Dead
  12. A Job Well Done
  13. Touchstones of Character
  14. But For the Night
  15. Tangled Webs
  16. Suspicions
  17. Chasms of the Mind (with Carol Trendall)




End file.
